UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT  LOS  ANGELES 


i  ,  --  - 


SHORT    STORIES 


THE  TALE  OF  CHLOE  —  THE  HOUSE  ON 
THE  BEACH  —  FARINA  —  THE  CASE  OF 
GENERAL  OPLE  AND  LADY  CAMPER 


IT 

GEORGE  MEREDITH 


• 


REVISED  EDITION 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S   SONS 

1917 

4   • 

c  3  o 


COPYRIGHT.  1898,  BY 
GEORGE  MEREDITH 


*     I 
1    < 


1      .        *    .     . 


.   <  •  •     . 
.1 


1  *   <  < 


i 

f 


' 


CONTENTS 


V  » 

) 

FAGK 

THE   TALE   OP   CHLOE 3 

I 

THE   HOUSE   ON   THE   BEACH 69 

FARINA 159 

i 

i  THE   CASE   OF   GENERAL   OPLE    AND    LADY   CAMPER         ...      261 

) 


THE   TALE   OF   CHLOE 

A.N  EPISODE  IN  THE  HISTORY  OF  BEAU  BEAMISH 


•v. 


SHORT    STORIES 

THE  TALE  OF  CHLOE  —  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE 

BEACH  —  FARINA  —  THE  CASE  OF  GENERAL 

OPLE  AND  LADY  CAMPER 


THE  TALE  OF  CHLOE 


"  Fair  Chloe,  we  toasted  of  old, 

As  the  Queen  of  our  festival  meeting ; 
Now  Chloe  is  lifeless  and  cold  ; 

You  must  go  to  the  grave  for  her  greeting. 

Her  beauty  and  talents  were  framed 

To  enkindle  the  proudest  to  win  her; 
Then  let  not  the  mem'ry  be  blamed 

Of  the  purest  that  e'er  was  a  sinner ! " 

Captain  Chanter's  Collection. 


CHAPTER  I 

A  proper  tenderness  for  the  Peerage  will  continue  to 
pass  current  the  illustrious  gentleman  who  was  inflamed 
by  Cupid's  darts  to  espouse  the  milkmaid,  or  dairymaid, 
under  his  ballad  title  of  Duke  of  Dewlap :  nor  was  it  the 
smallest  of  the  services  rendered  him  by  Beau  Beamish, 
that  he  clapped  the  name  upon  her  rustic  Grace,  the  young 
duchess,  the  very  first  day  of  her  arrival  at  the  Wells. 
This  happy  inspiration  of  a  wit  never  failing  at  a  pinch 
has  rescued  one  of  our  princeliest  houses  from  the  assaults 
of  the  vulgar,  who  are  ever  too  rejoiced  to  bespatter  and 
disfigure  a  brilliant  coat-of-arms ;  insomuch  that  the 
ballad,  to  which  we  are  indebted  for  the  narrative  of  the 
meeting  and  marriage  of  the  ducal  pair,  speaks  of  Dewlap 
in  good  faith : 

O  the  ninth  Duke  of  Dewlap  I  am,  Susie  dear! 

without  a  hint  of  a  domino  title.  So  likewise  the  pictorial 
historian  is  merry  over  "  Dewlap  alliances  "  in  his  descrip- 


4  THE  TALE   OF  CHLOE 

tion  of  the  society  of  that  period.  He  has  read  the  ballad, 
but  disregarded  the  memoirs  of  the  beau.  Writers  of 
pretension  would  seem  to  have  an  animus  against  individ- 
uals of  the  character  of  Mr.  Beamish.  They  will  treat  of 
the  habits  and  manners  of  highwaymen,  and  quote  obscure 
broadsheets  and  songs  of  the  people  to  colour  their  story, 
yet  decline  to  bestow  more  than  a  passing  remark  upon  our 
domestic  kings :  because  they  are  not  hereditary,  we  may 
suppose. 

The  ballad  of  "The  Duke  and  the  Dairymaid,"  ascribed 
with  questionable  authority  to  the  pen  of  Mr.  Beamish 
himself  in  a  freak  of  his  gaiety,  was  once  popular  enough 
to  provoke  the  moralist  to  animadversions  upon  an  order 
of  composition  that  "tempted  every  bouncing  country  lass 
to  sidle  an  eye  in  a  blowsy  cheek"  in  expectation  of  a 
coronet  for  her  pains  —  and  a  wet  ditch  as  the  result !  We 
may  doubt  it  to  have  been  such  an  occasion  of  mischief. 
But  that  mischief  may  have  been  done  by  it  to  a  nobility- 
loving  people,  even  to  the  love  of  our  nobility  among  the 
people,  must  be  granted;  and  for  the  particular  reason, 
that  the  hero  of  the  ballad  behaved  so  handsomely.  We 
perceive  a  susceptibility  to  adulteration  in  their  worship 
at  the  sight  of  one  of  their  number,  a  young  maid,  sud- 
denly snatched  up  to  the  gaping  heights  of  Luxury  and 
Fashion  through  sheer  good  looks.  Remembering  that 
they  are  accustomed  to  a  totally  reverse  effect  from  that 
possession,  it  is  very  perceptible  how  a  breach  in  their 
reverence  may  come  of  the  change. 

Otherwise  the  ballad  is  innocent;  certainly  it  is  inno- 
cent in  design.  A  fresher  national  song  of  a  beautiful 
incident  of  our  country  life  has  never  been  written.  The 
sentiments  are  natural,  the  imagery  is  apt  and  redolent  of 
the  soil,  the  music  of  the  verse  appeals  to  the  dullest  ear. 
It  has  no  smell  of  the  lamp,  nothing  foreign  and  far-fetched 
about  it,  but  is  just  what  it  pretends  to  be,  the  carol  of  the 
native  bird.  A  sample  will  show,  for  the  ballad  is  much 
too  long  to  be  given  entire : 

Sweet  Susie  she  tripped  on  a  shiny  May  morn, 
Ab  blithe  as  the  lark  from  the  green-springing  corn, 
When,  hard  by  a  stile,  't  was  her  luck  to  behold 
A  wonderful  gentleman  covered  with  gold  i 


THE  TALE   OF   CHLOE  5 

There  was  gold  on  his  hreeches  and  gold  on  his  coat, 
His  shirt-frill  was  grand  as  a  fifty-pound  note; 
The  diamonds  glittered  all  up  him  so  bright, 
She  thought  him  the  Milky  Way  clothing  a  Sprite! 

"  Fear  not,  pretty  maiden,"  he  said  with  a  smile ; 
"  And,  pray,  let  me  help  you  in  crossing  the  stile." 
She  bobbed  him  a  curtsey  so  lovely  and  smart, 
It  shot  like  an  arrow  and  fixed  in  his  heart. 

As  light  as  a  robin  she  hopped  to  the  stone, 
But  fast  was  her  hand  in  the  gentleman's  own  ; 
And  guess  how  she  stared,  nor  her  senses  could  trust, 
When  this  creamy  gentleman  knelt  in  the  dust ! 

With  a  rhapsody  upon  her  beauty,  he  informs  her  of  his 
rank,  for  a  nourish  to  the  proposal  of  honourable  and 
immediate  marriage.  He  cannot  wait.  This  is  the  fatal 
condition  of  his  love:  apparently  a  characteristic  of  amor- 
ous dukes.  We  read  them  in  the  signs  extended  to  us. 
The  minds  of  these  august  and  solitary  men  have  not  yet 
been  sounded;  they  are  too  distant.  Standing  upon  their 
lofty  pinnacles,  they  are  as  legible  to  the  rabble  below  as  a 
line  of  cuneiform  writing  in  a  page  of  old  copy-book 
roundhand.  By  their  deeds  we  know  them,  as  heathen- 
dom knows  of  its  gods ;  and  it  is  repeatedly  on  record  that 
the  moment  they  have  taken  fire  they  must  wed,  though 
the  lady's  finger  be  circled  with  nothing  closer  fitting  than 
a  ring  of  the  bed-curtain.  Vainly,  as  becomes  a  candid 
country  lass,  blue-eyed  Susan  tells  him  that  she  is  but  a 
poor  dairymaid.  He  has  been  a  student  of  women  at 
Courts,  in  which  furnace  the  sex  becomes  a  transparency, 
so  he  recounts  to  her  the  catalogue  of  material  advantages 
he  has  to  offer.  Finally,  after  his  assurances  that  she  is 
to  be  married  by  the  parson,  really  by  the  parson,  and  a 
real  parson  — 

Sweet  Susie  is  off  for  her  parents'  consent, 

And  long  must  the  old  folk  debate  what  it  meant. 

She  left  them  the  eve  of  that  happy  May  morn, 

To  shine  like  the  blossom  that  hangs  from  the  thorn  ! 

Apart  from  its  historical  value,  the  ballad  is  an  example 
to  poets  of  our  day,  who  fly  to  mythological  Greece,  or  a 
fanciful  and  morbid  medievalism,  or  —  save  the  mark  1  — 


6  THE  TALE   OF   CHLOE 

abstract  ideas,  for  themes  of  song,  of  what  may  be  done  to 
make  our  English  life  poetically  interesting,  if  they  would 
but  pluck  the  treasures  presented  them  by  the  wayside; 
and  Nature  being  now  as  then  the  passport  to  popularity, 
they  have  themselves  to  thank  for  their  little  hold  on  the 
heart  of  the  people.  A  living  native  duke  is  worth  fifty 
Phoebus  Apollos  to  Englishmen,  and  a  buxom  young  lass 
of  the  fields  mounting  from  a  pair  of  pails  to  the  estate  of 
duchess,  a  more  romantic  object  than  troops  of  your  vision- 
ary Yseults  and  Guineveres. 


CHAPTER  II 


A  certain  time  after  the  marriage,  his  Grace  alighted 
at  the  Wells,  and  did  himself  the  honour  to  call  on  Mr. 
Beamish.  Addressing  that  gentleman,  to  whom  he  was 
no  stranger,  he  communicated  the  purport  of  his  visit. 

"Sir,  and  my  very  good  friend,"  he  said,  "first  let  me 
beg  you  to  abate  the  severity  of  your  countenance,  for  if  I 
am  here  in  breach  of  your  prohibition,  I  shall  presently 
depart  in  compliance  with  it.  I  could  indeed  deplore  the 
loss  of  the  passion  for  play  of  which  you  effectually  cured 
me.  I  was  then  armed  against  a  crueller,  that  allows  of 
no  interval  for  a  man  to  make  his  vow  to  recover ! " 

"The  disease  which  is  all  crisis,  I  apprehend,"  Mr. 
Beamish  remarked. 

"Which,  sir,  when  it  takes  hold  of  dry  wood,  burns  to 
the  last  splinter.  It  is  now"  —  the  duke  fetched  a  tender 
groan  —  "  three  years  ago  that  I  had  a  caprice  to  marry  a 
grandchild!  " 

"Of  Adam's,"  Mr.  Beamish  said  cheerfully.  "There 
was  no  legitimate  bar  to  the  union." 

"  Unhappily  none.  Yet  you  are  not  to  suppose  I  regret 
it.  A  most  admirable  creature,  Mr.  Beamish,  a  real 
divinity!  And  the  better  known,  the  more  adored. 
There  is  the  misfortune.  At  my  season  of  life,  when  the 
greater  and  the  minor  organs  are  in  a  conspiracy  to  tell 


THE  TALE   OF   CHLOE  7 

me  I  am  mortal,  the  passion  of  love  must  be  welcomed  as 
a  calamity,  though  one  would  uot  be  free  of  it  for  the 
renewal  of  youth.  You  are  to  understand,  that  with  a 
little  awakening  taste  for  dissipation,  she  is  the  most 
innocent  of  angels.  Hitherto  we  have  lived  ...  To  her 
it  has  been  a  new  world.  But  she  is  beginning  to  find  it 
a  narrow  one.  No,  no,  she  is  not  tired  of  my  society. 
Very  far  from  that.  But  in  her  present  station  an  inclina- 
tion for  such  gatherings  as  you  have  here,  for  example,  is 
like  a  desire  to  take  the  air:  and  the  healthy  habits  of  my 
duchess  have  not  accustomed  her  to  be  immured.  And  in 
fine,  devote  ourselves  as  we  will,  a  term  approaches  when 
the  enthusiasm  for  serving  as  your  wife's  playfellow  all 
day,  running  round  tables  and  flying  along  corridors  before 
a  knotted  handkerchief,  is  mightily  relaxed.  Yet  the 
dread  of  a  separation  from  her  has  kept  me  at  these  pas- 
times for  a  considerable  period  beyond  my  relish  of  them. 
Not  that  I  acknowledge  fatigue.  I  have,  it  seems,  a 
taste  for  reflection;  I  am  now  much  disposed  to  read  and 
meditate,  which  cannot  be  done  without  repose.  I  settle 
myself,  and  I  receive  a  worsted  ball  in  my  face,  and  I  am 
expected  to  return  it.  I  comply;  and  then  you  would 
say  a  nursery  in  arms.  It  would  else  be  the  deplorable 
spectacle  of  a  beautiful  young  woman  yawning." 

"Earthquake  and  saltpetre  threaten  us  less  terribly," 
said  Mr.  Beamish. 

"  In  fine,  she  has  extracted  a  promise  that  this  summer 
she  shall  visit  the  Wells  for  a  month,  and  I  fear  I  cannot 
break  my  pledge  of  my  word;  I  fear  I  cannot." 

"Very  certainly  I  would  not,"  said  Mr.  Beamish. 

The  duke  heaved  a  sigh.  "There  are  reasons,  family 
reasons,  why  my  company  and  protection  must  be  denied 
to  her  here.  I  have  no  wish  .  .  .  indeed  my  name,  for 
the  present,  until  such  time  as  she  shall  have  found  her 
feet  .  .  .  and  there  is  ever  a  penalty  to  pay  for  that. 
Ah,  Mr.  Beamish,  pictures  are  ours,  when  we  have  bought 
them  and  hung  them  up;  but  who  insures  us  possession  of 
a  beautiful  work  of  Nature  ?  I  have  latterly  betaken  me 
to  reflect  much  and  seriously.  I  am  tempted  to  side  with 
the  Divines  in  the  sermons  I  have  read;  the  flesh  is  the 
habitation  of  a  rebellious  devil." 


8  THE  TALE   OF   CHLOE 

"To  whom  we  object  in  proportion  as  we  ourselves 
become  quit  of  him,"  Mr.  Beamish  acquiesced. 

"But  this  mania  of  young  people  for  pleasure,  eternal 
pleasure,  is  one  of  the  wonders.  It  does  not  pall  on 
them;  they  are  insatiate." 

"  There  is  the  cataract,  and  there  is  the  cliff.  Potentate 
to  potentate,  duke  —  so  long  as  you  are  on  my  territory, 
be  it  understood.  Upon  my  way  to  a  place  of  worship 
once,  I  passed  a  Puritan,  who  was  complaining  of  a  butter- 
fly that  fluttered  prettily  abroad  in  desecration  of  the  Day 
of  Best.  '  Friend, '  said  I  to  him,  '  conclusively  you  prove 
to  me  that  you  are  not  a  butterfly.'  Surly  did  no  more 
than  favour  me  with  the  anathema  of  his  countenance." 

"Cousin  Beamish,  my  complaint  of  these  young  people 
is,  that  they  miss  their  pleasure  in  pursuing  it.  I  have 
lectured  my  duchess " 

"Ha!" 

"Foolish,  I  own,"  said  the  duke.  "But  suppose,  now, 
you  had  caught  your  butterfly,  and  you  could  neither 
let  it  go  nor  consent  to  follow  its  vagaries.  That  poses 
you." 

"Young  people,"  said  Mr.  Beamish,  "come  under  my 
observation  in  this  poor  realm  of  mine  —  young  and  old. 
I  find  them  prodigiously  alike  in  their  love  of  pleasure, 
differing  mainly  in  their  capacity  to  satisfy  it.  That  is  , 
no  uncommon  observation.  The  young  have  an  edge 
which  they  are  desirous  of  blunting;  the  old  contrariwise. 
The  cry  of  the  young  for  pleasure  is  actually  —  I  have 
studied  their  language  —  a  cry  for  burdens.  Curious! 
And  the  old  ones  cry  for  having  too  many  on  their  shoul- 
ders :  which  is  not  astonishing.  Between  them  they  make 
an  agreeable  concert  both  to  charm  the  ears  and  guide  the 
steps  of  the  philosopher,  whose  wisdom  it  is  to  avoid  their 
tracks." 

"  Good.  But  I  have  asked  you  for  practical  advice,  and 
you  give  me  an  essay." 

"  For  the  reason,  duke,  that  you  propose  a  case  that 
suggests  hanging.  You  mention  two  things  impossible  to 
be  done.  The  alternative  is,  a  garter  and  the  bed-post. 
When  we  have  come  upon  crossways,  and  we  can  decide 
neither  to  take  the  right  hand  nor  the  left,  neither  forward 


THE  TALE   OF   CHLOE  P 

nor  back,  the  index  of  the  board  •which  would  direct  us 
points  to  itself,  and  emphatically  says,  Gallows." 

"Beamish,  I  am  distracted.  If  I  refuse  her  the  visit,  I 
foresee  dissensions,  tears,  games  at  ball,  romps,  not  one 
day  of  rest  remaining  to  me.  I  could  be  of  a  mind  with 
your  Puritan,  positively.  If  I  allow  it,  so  innocent  a 
creature  in  the  atmosphere  of  a  place  like  this  must  suffer 
some  corruption.  You  should  know  that  the  station  I 
took  her  from  was  ...  it  was  modest.  She  was  abso- 
lutely a  buttercup  of  the  fields.  She  has  had  various 
masters.  She  dances  .  .  .  she  dances  prettily,  I  could  say 
bewitchingly.  And  so  she  is  now  for  airing  her  accom- 
plishments: such  are  women !  " 

"  Have  you  heard  of  Chloe  ? "  said  Mr.  Beamish. 
"  There  you  have  an  example  of  a  young  lady  uncorrupted 
by  this  place  —  of  which  I  would  only  remark  that  it  is 
best  unvisited,  but  better  tasted  than  longed  for." 

"  Chloe  ?  A  lady  who  squandered  her  fortune  to  redeem 
some  ill-requiting  rascal:  I  remember  to  have  heard  of 
her.      She  is  here  still  ?     And  ruined,  of  course  ?  " 

"In  purse." 

"That  cannot  be  without  the  loss  of  reputation." 

"Chloe's  champion  will  grant  that  she  is  exposed  to  the 
evils  of  improvidence.  The  more  brightly  shine  her 
native  purity,  her  goodness  of  heart,  her  trustfulness. 
She  is  a  lady  whose  exaltation  glows  in  her  abasement." 

"She  has,  I  see,  preserved  her  comeliness,"  observed 
the  duke,  with  a  smile. 

"Despite  the  flying  of  the  roses,  which  had  not  her 
heart's  patience.  JTis  now  the  lily  that  reigns.  So, 
then,  Chloe  shall  be  attached  to  the  duchess  during  her 
stay,  and  unless  the  devil  himself  should  interfere,  I 
guarantee  her  Grace  against  any  worse  harm  than  experi- 
ence; and  that,"  Mr.  Beamish  added,  as  the  duke  raised 
his  arms  at  the  fearful  word,  "that  shall  be  mild.  Play 
she  will;  she  is  sure  to  play.  Put  it  down  at  a  thousand. 
We  map  her  out  a  course  of  permissible  follies,  and  she 
plays  to  lose  the  thousand  by  degrees,  with  as  telling  an 
effect  upon  a  connubial  conscience  as  we  can  produce." 

"A  thousand,"  said  the  duke,  "will  be  cheap  indeed.  I 
think  now  I  have  had  a  description  of  this  fair  Chloe,  and 


10  THE  TALE  OP   CHLOE 

from  an  enthusiast;  a  brune  ?  elegantly  mannered  and  of 
a  good  landed  family;  though  she  has  thought  proper  to 
conceal  her  name.  And  that  will  be  our  difficulty,  cousin 
Beamish." 

"She  was,  under  my  dominion,  Miss  Martinsward," 
Mr.  Beamish  pursued.  "  She  came  here  very  young,  and 
at  once  her  suitors  were  legion.  In  the  way  of  women, 
she  chose  the  worst  among  them;  and  for  the  fellow 
Caseldy  she  sacrificed  the  fortune  she  had  inherited  of  a 
maternal  uncle.  To  release  him  from  prison,  she  paid  all 
his  debts;  a  mountain  of  bills,  with  the  lawyers  piled 
above  —  Pelion  upon  Ossa,  to  quote  our  poets.  In  fact, 
obeying  the  dictates  of  a  soul  steeped  in  generosity,  she 
committed  the  indiscretion  to  strip  herself,  scandalizing 
propriety.  This  was  immediately  on  her  coming  of  age; 
and  it  was  the  death-blow  to  her  relations  with  her 
family.  Since  then,  honoured  even  by  rakes,  she  has  lived 
impoverished  at  the  Wells.  I  dubbed  her  Chloe,  and  man 
»r  woman  disrespectful  to  Chloe  packs.  From  being  the 
victim  of  her  generous  disposition,  I  could  not  save  her; 
I  can  protect  her  from  the  shafts  of  malice." 

"  She  has  no  passion  for  play  ?  "  inquired  the  duke. 

"She  nourishes  a  passion  for  the  man  for  whom  she 
bl")d,  to  the  exclusion  of  the\other  passions.  She  lives, 
and  I  believe  I  may  say  that  it  is' the  motive  of  her  rising 
and  dressing  daily,  in  expectation  of  his  advent." 

"He  may  be  dead." 

"  The  dog  is  alive.  And  he  has  not  ceased  to  be  Hand- 
some Caseldy,  they  say.  Between  ourselves,  duke,  there 
is  matter  to  break  her  heart.  He  has  been  the  Count 
Caseldy  of  Continental  gaming  tables,  and  he  is  recently 
Sir  Martin  Caseldy,  settled  on  the  estate  she  made  him 
free  to  take  up  intact  on  his  father's  decease." 

"Pah!  a  villain!" 

"  With  a  blacker  brand  upon  him  every  morning  that  he 
looks  forth  across  his  property,  and  leaves  her  to  languish ! 
She  still  —  I  say  it  to  the  redemption  of  our  sex  —  has 
offers.  Her  incomparable  attractions  of  mind  and  person 
exercise  the  natural  empire  of  beauty.  But  she  will  none 
of  them.  I  call  her  the  Fair  Suicide.  She  has  died  for 
love;  and  she  is  a  ghost,  a  good  gnost,  and  a  pleasing 
ghost,  but  an  apparition,  a  taper." 


V 


THE  TALE   OF   CHLOE  11 

The  duke  fidgeted,  and  expressed  a  hope  to  hear  that 
she  was  not  of  melancholy  conversation;  and  again,  that 
the  subject  of  her  discourse  was  not  confined  to  love  and 
lovers,  happy  or  unhappy.  He  wished  his  duchess,  he 
said,  to  be  entertained  upon  gayer  topics:  love  being  a 
theme  he  desired  to  reserve  to  himself.  "This  month!" 
hp  oairt,  prognostically  shaking  and  moaning.  "I  would 
this  month  were  over,  and  that  we  were  well  purged  of  it." 

Mr.  Beamish  reassured  him.  The  wit  and  sprightliness 
of  Chloe  were  so  famous  as  to  be  considered  medical,  he 
affirmed;  she  was  besieged  for  her  company;  she  composed 
and  sang  impromptu  verses,  she  played  harp  and  harpsi- 
chord divinely,  and  touched  the  guitar,  and  danced,  danced 
like  the  silvery  moon  on  the  waters  of  the  mill  pool.  He 
concluded  by  saying  that  she  was  both  humane  and  wise, 
humble-minded  and  amusing,  virtuous  yet  not  a  Tartar; 
the  best  of  companions  for  her  Grace  the  young  duchess. 
Moreover,  he  boldly  engaged  to  carry  the  duchess  through 
the  term  of  her  visit  under  a  name  that  should  be  as  good 
as  a  masquerade  for  concealing  his  Grace's,  while  giving 
her  all  the  honours  due  to  her  rank. 

"You  strictly  interpret  my  wishes,"  said  the  duke;  "all 
honours,  the  foremost  place,  and  my  wrath  upon  man  or 
woman  gainsaying  them!  " 

"Mine!  if  you  please,  duke,"  said  Mr.  Beamish. 

"A  thousand  pardons!  I  leave  it  to  you,  cousin.  I 
could  not  be  in  safer  hands.  I  am  heartily  bounden  to 
you  Chloe,  then.  By  the  way,  she  has  a  decent  respect 
for  age  ?  " 

"She  is  reverentially  inclined." 

"Not  that.  She  is,  I  would  ask,  no  wanton  prattler  of 
the  charms  and  advantages  of  youth  ?  " 

"  She  has  a  young  adorer  that  I  have  dubbed  Alonzo, 
whom  she  scarce  notices." 

"Nothing  could  be  better.  Alonzo:  h'm!  A  faithful 
swgin  ?  " 

tfljife  is  his  tree,  upon  which  unceasingly  he  carves  his 
mJstress's  initials-" 

"  She  should~-&ot  be  too  cruel.  I  recollect  myself  for- 
merly: I  was  .  .  .  Young  men  will,  when  long  slighted, 
transfer  their  affections,  and  be  warmer  to  the  second  flame 


12  THE   TALE   OF   CHLOE 

ish&n  to  the  first.  I  put  you  on  your  guard.  He  fol- 
lows her  much?  These  lovers'  pantings  and  puffings  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  the  most  innocent  of  women  are 
contagious." 

"  Her  Grace  will  be  running  home  all  the  sooner." 

"Or  off!  —  may  she  forgive  me!  I  am  like  a  King 
John's  Jew,  forced  to  lend  his  treasure  without  security- 
What  a  world  is  ours!  Nothing,  Beamish,  nothing  desir- 
able will  you  have  which  is  not  coveted!  Catch  a  prize, 
and  you  will  find  you  are  at  war  with  your  species.  You 
have  to  be  on  the  defensive  from  that  moment.  There  is 
no  such  thing  as  peaceable  possession  on  earth.  Let  it  be 
a  beautiful  young  woman !  —  Ah !  " 

Mr.  Beamish  replied  bracingly,  "  The  champion  wrestler 
challenges  all  comers  while  he  wears  the  belt." 

The  duke  dejectedly  assented.  "True;  or  he  is  chal- 
lenged, say.  Is  there  any  tale  we  could  tell  her  of  this 
Alonzo  ?  You  could  deport  him  for  the  month,  my  dear 
Beamish." 

"I  commit  no  injustice  unless  with  sufficient  reason.  It 
is  an  estimable  youth,  as  shown  by  his  devotion  to  a  peer- 
less woman.  To  endow  her  with  his  name  and  fortune  is 
his  only  thought." 

"I  perceive;  an  excellent  young  fellow!  I  have  an 
incipient  liking  for  this  young  Alonzo.  You  must  not 
permit  my  duchess  to  laugh  at  him.  Encourage  her  rather 
to  advance  his  suit.  The  silliness  of  a  young  man  will  be 
no  bad  spectacle.  Chloe,  then.  You  have  set  my  mind  at 
rest,  Beamish,  and  it  is  but  another  obligation  added  to 
the  heap;  so,  if  I  do  not  speak  of  payment,  the  reason  is 
that  I  know  you  would  not  have  me  bankrupt." 

The  remainder  of  the  colloquy  of  the  duke  and  Mr. 
Beamish  referred  to  the  date  of  her  Grace's  coming  to  the 
Wells,  the  lodgement  she  was  to  receive,  and  other  minor 
arrangements  bearing  upon  her  state  and  comfort;  the 
duke  perpetually  observing,  "But  I  leave  it  all  to  you, 
Beamish,"  when  he  had  laid  down  precise  instructions  in 
these  respects,  even  to  the  specification  of  the  shopkeepers, 
the  confectioner  and  the  apothecary,  who  were  to  balance 
or  cancel  one  another  in  the  opposite  nature  of  their 
supplies,    and  the    haberdasher  and   the    jeweller,    with 


THE   TALE   OF   CHLOE  13 

whom  she  was  to  make  her  purchases.  For  the  duke  had 
a  recollection  of  giddy  shops,  and  of  giddy  shopmen  too; 
and  it  was  by  serving  as  one  for  a  day  that  a  certain  great 
nobleman  came  to  victory  with  a  jealously  guarded  dame 
beautiful  as  Venus.  "I  would  have  challenged  the  god- 
dess! "  he  cried,  and  subsided  from  his  enthusiasm  plain- 
tively, like  a  weak  wind  instrument.  "So  there  you  see 
the  prudence  of  a  choice  of  shops.  But  I  leave  it  to  you, 
Beamish."  Similarly  the  great  military  commander, 
having  done  whatsoever  a  careful  prevision  may  suggest  to 
insure  him  victory,  casts  himself  upon  Providence,  with 
the  hope  of  propitiating  the  unanticipated  and  darkly 
possible. 


CHAPTER  III 


The  splendid  equipage  of  a  coach  and  six,  with  foot- 
men in  scarlet  and  green,  carried  Beau  Beamish  five  miles 
along  the  road  on  a  sunny  day  to  meet  the  young  duchess 
at  the  boundary  of  his  territory,  and  conduct  her  in  state 
to  the  Wells.  Chloe  sat  beside  him,  receiving  counsel  with 
regard  to  her  prospective  duties.  He  was  this  day  the 
consummate  beau,  suave,  but  monarchical,  and  his  manner 
of  speech  partook  of  his  external  grandeur.  "  Spy  me  the 
horizon,  and  apprise  me  if  somewhere  you  distinguish  a 
chariot,"  he  said,  as  they  drew  up  on  the  rise  of  a  hill 
of  long  descent,  where  the  dusty  roadway  sank  between 
its  brown  hedges,  and  crawled  mounting  from  dry  rush- 
spotted  hollows  to  corn  fields  on  a  companion  height 
directly  facing  them,  at  a  remove  of  about  three-quarters 
of  a  mile.  Chloe  looked  forth,  while  the  beau  pass- 
ingly raised  his  hat  for  coolness,  and  murmured,  with 
a  glance  down  the  sultry  track :  "  It  sweats  the  eye 
to  see ! " 

Presently  Chloe  said,  "Now  a  dust  blows.  Something 
approaches.  Now  I  discern  horses,  now  a  vehicle  ;  and  it 
is  a  chariot !  " 

Orders  were  issued  to  the  outriders  for  horns  to  be 
sounded. 


14  THE  TALE   OF   CHLOE 

Both  Chloe  and  Beau  Beamish  wrinkled  their  foreheads 
at  the  disorderly  notes  of  triple  horns,  whose  pealing  made 
an  acid  in  the  air  instead  of  sweetness. 

"  You  would  say,  kennel  dogs  that  bay  the  moon !  "  said 
the  wincing  beau.  "  Yet,  as  you  know,  these  fellows  have 
been  exercised.  I  have  had  them  out  in  a  meadow  for 
hours,  baked  and  drenched,  to  get  them  rid  of  their  native 
cacophony.  But  they  love  it,  as  they  love  bacon  and 
beans.  The  musical  taste  of  our  people  is  in  the  stage  of 
the  primitive  appetite  for  noise,  and  for  that  they  are 
gluttons." 

"It  will  be  pleasant  to  hear  in  the  distance,"  Chloe 
replied. 

"  Ay,  the  extremer  the  distance,  the  pleasanter  to  hear. 
Are  they  advancing  ?  " 

"  They  stop.  There  is  a  cavalier  at  the  window.  Now 
he  doffs  his  hat." 

"  Sweepingly  ?  " 

Chloe  described  a  semicircle  in  the  grand  manner. 

The  beau's  eyebrows  rose.  "  Powers  divine  !  "  he  mut- 
tered. "  She  is  let  loose  from  hand  to  hand,  and  midway 
comes  a  cavalier.  We  did  not  count  on  the  hawks.  So  I 
have  to  deal  with  a  cavalier  !  It  signifies,  my  dear  Chloe, 
that  I  must  incontinently  affect  the  passion  if  I  am  to  be 
his  match  :  nothing  less." 

"  He  has  flown,"  said  Chloe. 

"Whom  she  encounters  after  meeting  me,  I  care  not," 
quothed  the  beau,  snapping  a  finger.  "  But  there  has  been 
an  interval  for  damage  with  a  lady  innocent  as  Eve.  Is 
she  advancing  ?  " 

"  The  chariot  is  trotting  clown  the  hill.  He  has  ridden 
back.     She  has  no  attendant  horseman." 

"They  were  dismissed  at  my  injunction  ten  miles  off: 
particularly  to  the  benefit  of  the  cavaliering  horde,  it  would 
appear.  In  the  case  of  a  woman,  Chloe,  one  blink  of  the 
eyelids  is  an  omission  of  watchfulness." 

"  That  is  an  axiom  fit  for  the  harem  of  the  Grand 
Signior." 

"The  Grand  Signior  might  give  us  profitable  lessons  for 
dealing  with  the  sex." 

"Distrust  us,  and  it  is  a  declaration  of  war! " 


THE  TALE   OF   CHLOE  15 

"Trust  you,  and  the  stopper  is  out  of  the  smelling- 
bottle." 

"Mr.  Beamish,  we  are  women,  but  we  have  souls." 

"  The  pip  in  the  apple  whose  ruddy  cheek  allures  little 
Tommy  to  rob  the  orchard  is  as  good  a  preservative." 

"  You  admit  that  men  are  our  enemies  ?  " 

"  I  maintain  that  they  carry  the  banner  of  virtue." 

"Oh,  Mr.  Beamish,  I  shall  expire." 

"I  forbid  it  in  my  lifetime,  Chloe,  for  I  wish  to  die 
believing  in  one  woman." 

"  No  flattery  for  me  at  the  expense  of  my  sisters  !  " 

"  Then  fly  to  a  hermitage  ;  for  all  flattery  is  at  some- 
body's expense,  child.  'T  is  an  essence  —  extract  of  human- 
ity !  To  live  on  it,  in  the  fashion  of  some  people,  is  bad  — 
it  is  downright  cannibal.  But  we  may  sprinkle  our  hand- 
kerchiefs with  it,  and  we  should,  if  we  would  caress  our 
noses  with  an  air.  Society,  my  Chloe,  is  a  recommence- 
ment upon  an  upper  level  of  the  savage  system  ;  we  must 
have  our  sacrifices.  As,  for  instance,  what  say  you  of 
myself  beside  our  booted  bumpkin  squires  ?  " 

"  Hundreds  of  them,  Mr.  Beamish  !  " 

"That  is  a  holocaust  of  squires  reduced  to  make  an 
incense  for  me,  though  you  have  not  performed  Druid  rites 
and  packed  them  in  gigantic  osier  ribs.  Be  philosophical, 
but  accept  your  personal  dues.  Grant  us  ours  too.  I  have 
a  serious  intention  to  preserve  this  young  duchess,  and  I 
expect  my  task  to  be  severe.  I  carry  the  banner  aforesaid ; 
verily  and  penitentially  I  do.  It  is  an  error  of  the  vulgar 
to  suppose  that  all  is  dragon  in  the  dragon's  jaws." 

"  Men  are  his  fangs  and  claws." 

"  Ay,  but  the  passion  for  his  fiery  breath  is  in  woman. 
She  will  take  her  leap  and  have  her  jump,  will  and  will! 
And  at  the  point  where  she  will  and  she  won't,  the  dragon 
gulps  and  down  she  goes  !  However,  the  business  is  to 
keep  our  buttercup  duchess  from  that  same  point.  Is  she 
near  ?  " 

"  I  can  see  her,"  said  Chloe. 

Beau  Beamish  requested  a  sketch  of  her,  and  Chloe 
began:  "She  is  ravishing." 

Upon  which  he  commented,  "Every  woman  is  ravishing 
at  forty  paces,  and  still  more  so  in  imagination." 


16  THE   TALE   OP   CHLOE 

"Beautiful  auburn  hair,  and  a  dazzling  red  and  white 
complexion,  set  in  a  blue  coif." 

"  Her  eyes  ?  " 

"  Melting  blue." 

"T  is  an  English  witch!  "  exclaimed  the  beau,  and  he 
compassionately  invoked  her  absent  lord. 

Chloe's  optics  were  no  longer  tasked  to  discern  the  fair 
lady's  lineaments,  for  the  chariot  windows  came  flush 
with  those  of  the  beau  on  the  broad  plateau  of  the  hill. 
His  coach  door  was  opened.  He  sat  upright,  levelling 
his  privileged  stare  at  Duchess  Susan  until  she  blushed. 

"Ay,  madam,"  quoth  he,  "I  am  not  the  first." 

"  La,  sir !  "  said  she ;  "  who  are  you  ?  " 

The  beau  deliberately  raised  his  hat  and  bowed.  "  He, 
madam,  of  whose  approach  the  gentleman  who  took  his 
leave  of  you  on  yonder  elevation  informed  you." 

She  looked  artlessly  over  her  shoulder,  and  at  the  beau 
alighting  from  his  carriage.     "  A  gentleman  ?  " 

"On  horseback." 

The  duchess  popped  her  head  through  the  window  on  an 
impulse  to  measure  the  distance  between  the  two  hills. 

"  Never !  "  she  cried. 

"Why,  madam,  did  he  deliver  no  message  to  announce 
me  ?  "  said  the  beau,  ruffling. 

"Goodness  gracious!  You  must  be  Mr.  Beamish,"  she 
replied. 

He  laid  his  hat  on  his  bosom,  and  invited  her  to  quit  her 
carriage  for  a  seat  beside  him.  She  stipulated,  "  If  you  are 
really  Mr.  Beamish  ?  "  He  frowned,  and  raised  his  head 
to  convince  her;  but  she  would  not  be  impressed,  and  he 
applied  to  Chloe  to  establish  his  identity.  Hearing 
Chloe's  name,  the  duchess  called  out,  "Oh!  there,  now, 
that 's  enough,  for  Chloe  's  my  maid  here,  and  I  know 
she  's  a  lady  born,  and  we  're  going  to  be  friends.  Hand 
me  to  Chloe.  And  you  are  Chloe  ?"  she  said,  after  a  frank 
stride  from  step  to  step  of  the  carriages.  "And  don't  mind 
being  my  maid?  You  do  look  a  nice,  kind  creature.  And 
I  see  you  're  a  lady  born ;  I  know  in  a  minute.  You  're 
dark,  I'm  fair;  we  shall  suit.  And  tell  me  —  hush!  — 
what  dreadful  long  eyes  he  has !  I  shall  ask  you  presently 
what  you  think  of  me.     I  was  never  at  the  Wells  before. 


THE  TALE   OF   CHLOE  17 

Dear  me !  the  coach  has  turned.  How  far  off  shall  we  hear 
the  bells  to  say  I  'm  coming?  I  know  I  'm  to  have  bells. 
Mr.  Beamish,  Mr.  Beamish!  I  must  have  a  chatter  with 
a  woman,  and  I  am  in  awe  of  you,  sir,  that  I  am,  but  men 
and  men  I  see  to  talk  to  for  a  lift  of  my  finger,  by  the 
dozen,  in  my  duke's  palace  —  though  they  're  old  ones, 
that 's  true  —  but  a  woman  who  's  a  lady,  and  kind  enough 
to  be  my  maid,  1  have  n't  met  yet  since  I  had  the  right  to 
wear  a  coronet.  There,  I  '11  hold  Chloe's  hand,  and  that  '11 
do.  You  would  tell  me  at  once,  Chloe,  if  I  was  not  dressed 
to  your  taste;  now,  wouldn't  you?  As  for  talkative, 
that 's  a  sign  with  me  of  my  liking  people.  I  really  don't 
know  what  to  say  to  my  duke  sometimes.  I  sit  and  think 
it  so  funny  to  be  having  a  duke  instead  of  a  husband. 
You 're  off!" 

The  duchess  laughed  at  Chloe's  laughter.  Chloe  excused 
herself,  but  was  informed  by  her  mistress  that  it  was  what 
she  liked. 

"For  the  first  two  years,"  she  resumed,  "I  could  hardly 
speak  a  syllable.  I  stammered,  I  reddened,  I  longed  to 
be  up  in  my  room  brushing  and  curling  my  hair,  and  was 
ready  to  curtsey  to  everybody.  Now  I  'in  quite  at  home, 
for  I  've  plenty  of  courage  —  except  about  death,  and  I  'm 
worse  about  death  than  I  was  when  I  was  a  simple  body 
with  a  gawk's  '  lawks! '  in  her  round  eyes  and  mouth  for 
an  egg.  I  wonder  why  that  is  ?  But  is  n't  death  horrible? 
And  skeletons!  "     The  duchess  shuddered. 

"It  depends  upon  the  skeleton,"  said  Beau  Beamish,  who 
had  joined  the  conversation.  "Yours,  madam,  I  would 
rather  not  meet,  because  she  would  precipitate  me  into 
transports  of  regret  for  the  loss  of  the  flesh.  I  have,  how- 
ever, met  mine  own  and  had  reason  for  satisfaction  with 
the  interview." 

"Your  own  skeleton,  sir!  "  said  the  duchess  wonderingly 
and  appalled. 

"  Unmistakably  mine.  I  will  call  you  to  witness  by  an 
account  of  him." 

Duchess  Susan  gaped,  and,  "Oh,  don't!"  she  cried 
out;  but  added,  "It 's  broad  day,  and  I  've  got  some  one 
to  sleep  anigh  me  after  dark ;  "  with  which  she  smiled  on 
Chloe,  who  promised  her  there  was  no  matter  for  alarm. 


18  THE  TALE   OP   CHLOE 

"I  encountered  my  gentleman  as  I  was  proceeding  to 
my  room  at  night,"  said  the  beau,  "along  a  narrow  corri- 
dor, where  it  was  imperative  that  one  of  us  should  yield 
the  pas  ;  and,  I  must  confess  it,  we  are  all  so  amazingly 
alike  in  our  bones,  that  I  stood  prepared  to  demand  place 
of  him.  For  indubitably  the  fellow  was  an  obstruction, 
and  at  the  first  glance  repulsive.  I  took  him  for  anybody's 
skeleton,  Death's  ensign,  with  his  cachinnatory  skull,  and 
the  numbered  ribs,  and  the  extraordinary  splay  feet  —  in 
fact,  the  whole  ungainly  and  shaky  hobbledehoy  which 
man  is  built  on,  and  by  whose  image  in  his  weaker 
moments  he  is  haunted.  I  had,  to  be  frank,  been  dancing 
on  a  supper  with  certain  of  our  choicest  Wits  and  Beauties. 
It  is  a  recipe  for  conjuring  apparitions.  Now,  then,  thinks 
I,  my  fine  fellow,  I  will  bounce  you;  and  without  a  saluta- 
tion I  pressed  forward.  Madam,  I  give  you  my  word,  he 
behaved  to  the  full  pitch  as  I  myself  should  have  done 
under  similar  circumstances.  Ketiring  upon  an  inclina- 
tion of  his  structure,  he  draws  up  and  fetches  me  a  bow  of 
the  exact  middle  nick  between  dignity  and  service.  I 
advance,  he  withdraws,  and  again  the  bow,  devoid  of 
obsequiousness,  majestically  condescending.  These,  thinks 
I,  be  royal  manners.  I  could  have  taken  him  for  the 
Sable  King  in  person,  stripped  of  his  mantle.  On  my 
soul,  he  put  me  to  the  blush." 

"And  is  that  all?"  asked  the  duchess,  relieving  herself 
with  a  sigh. 

"Why,  madam,"  quoth  the  beau,  "do  you  not  see  that  he 
could  have  been  none  other  than  mine  own,  who  could 
comport  himself  with  that  grand  air  and  gracefulness  when 
wounded  by  his  closest  relative  ?  Upon  his  opening  my 
door  for  me,  and  accepting  the  pas,  which  I  now  right 
heartily  accorded  him,  I  recognized  at  once  both  him  and 
the  reproof  he  had  designedly  dealt  me  —  or  the  wine 
supper  I  had  danced  on.  perhaps  I  should  say ;  and  I  pro- 
test that  by  such  a  display  of  supreme  good  breeding  he 
managed  to  convey  the  highest  compliment  ever  received 
by  man,  namely,  the  assurance,  that  after  the  withering 
away  of  this  mortal  garb,  I  shall  still  be  noted  for  urbanity 
and  elegancy.  Nay,  and  more,  immortally,  without  the 
slip  I  was  guilty  of  when  I  carried  the  bag  of  wine." 


THE  TALE   OF   CHLOE  19 

Duchess  Susan  fanned  herself  to  assist  her  digestion  of 
he  anecdote. 

"  Well,  it 's  not  so  frightful  a  story,  and  I  know  you  are 
the  great  Mr.  Beamish,"  she  said. 

He  questioned  her  whether  the  gentleman  had  signalled 
him  to  her  on  the  hill. 

"  What  can  he  mean  about  a  gentleman  ? "  she  turned 
to  Chloe.  "My  duke  told  me  you  would  meet  me,  sir. 
And  you  are  to  protect  me.  And  if  anything  happens,  it 
is  to  be  your  fault." 

"Entirely,"  said  the  beau.  "I  shall  therefore  maintain 
i  vigilant  guard." 

"Except  leaving  me  free.  Oof!  I've  been  boxed  up  so 
long.  I  declare,  Chloe,  I  feel  like  a  best  dress  out  for  a 
holiday,  and  a  bit  afraid  of  spoiling.  I'm  a  real  child, 
more  than  I  was  when  my  duke  married  me.  I  seemed  to 
go  in  and  grow  up  again,  after  I  was  raised  to  fortune. 
And  nobody  to  tell  of  it!  Fancy  that!  For  you  can't  talk 
to  old  gentlemen  about  what 's  going  on  in  your  heart." 

"  How  of  young  gentlemen  ?  "  she  was  asked  by  the  beau. 

And  she  replied,  "They  find  it  out." 

"Not  if  you  do  not  assist  them,"  said  he. 

Duchess  Susan  let  her  eyelids  and  her  underlip  half 
drop,  as  she  looked  at  him  with  the  simple  shyness  of  one 
of  nature's  thoughts  in  her  head  at  peep  on  the  pastures 
of  the  world.  The  melting  blue  eyes  and  the  cherry  lip 
made  an  exceedingly  quickening  picture.  "Now,  I  wonder 
if  that  is  true  ?  "  she  transferred  her  slyness  to  speech. 

"Beware  the  middle-aged!  "  he  exclaimed. 

She  appealed  to  Chloe.  "  And  I  'm  sure  they  're  the 
nicest." 

Chloe  agreed  that  they  were. 

The  duchess  measured  Chloe  and  the  beau  together,  with 
a  mind  swift  in  apprehending  all  that  it  hungered  for. 

She  would  have  pursued  the  pleasing  theme  had  she  not 
been  directed  to  gaze  below  upon  the  towers  and  roofs  of 
the  Wells,  shining  sleepily  in  a  siesta  of  afternoon  Sum- 
mer sunlight. 

With  a  spread  of  her  silken  robe,  she  touched  the  edifice 
of  her  hair,  murmuring  to  Chloe,  "  I  can't  abide  that  powder 
You  shall  see  me  walk  in  a  hoop.     I  can.     I  've  done  it 


20  THE   TALE   OF   CHLOE 

to  slow  music  till  my  duke  clapped  hands.  I  'm  nothing 
sitting  to  what  I  am  on  my  feet.  That 's  because  I 
have  n't  got  hue  language  yet.  I  shall.  It  seems  to  come 
last.  So,  there  's  the  place.  And  whereabouts  do  all  the 
great  people  meet  and  prommy  —  ?  " 

"They  promenade  where  you  see  the  trees,  madam,"  said 
Chloe. 

"  And  where  is  it  where  the  ladies  sit  and  eat  jam  tarts 
with  whipped  cream  on  'em,  while  the  gentlemen  stand 
and  pay  compliments  ?  " 

Chloe  said  it  was  at  a  shop  near  the  pump  room. 

Duchess  Susan  looked  out  over  the  house-tops,  beyond 
the  dusty  hedges. 

"  Oh,  and  that  powder!  "  she  cried.  "  I  hate  to  be  out  of 
the  fashion  and  a  spectacle.  But  I  do  love  my  own  hair, 
and  I  have  such  a  lot,  and  I  like  the  colour,  and  so  does 
my  duke.  Only,  don't  let  me  be  fingered  at.  If  once  I 
begin  to  blush  before  people,  my  courage  is  gone;  my 
singing  inside  me  is  choked;  and  I  've  a  real  lark  going  on 
in  me  all  day  long,  rain  or  sunshine  —  hush,  all  about  love 
and  amusement." 

Chloe  smiled,  and  Duchess  Susan  said,  "Just  like  a 
bird,  for  I  don't  know  what  it  is." 

She  looked  for  Chloe  to  say  that  she  did. 

At  the  moment  a  pair  of  mounted  squires  rode  up,  and 
the  coach  stopped,  while  "Beau  Beamish  gave  orders  for 
the  church  bells  to  be  set  ringing,  and  the  band  to  meet 
and  precede  his  equipage  at  the  head  of  the  bath  avenue : 
"in  honour  of  the  arrival  of  her  Grace  the  Duchess  of 
Dewlap." 

He  delivered  these  words  loudly  to  his  men,  and  turned 
an  effulgent  gaze  upon  the  duchess,  so  that  for  a  minute 
she  was  fascinated  and  did  not  consult  her  hearing;  but 
presently  she  fell  into  an  uneasiness;  the  signs  increased, 
she  bit  her  lip,  and  after  breathing  short  once  or  twice, 
"  Was  it  meaning  me,  Mr.  Beamish  ?  "  she  said. 

"You,  madam,  are  the  person  whom  we  delight  to 
honour,"  he  replied. 

"  Duchess  of  what  ? "  she  screwed  uneasy  features  to 
hear. 

"Duchess  of  Dewlap,"  said  he. 


THE   TALE   OF   CHLOE  21 

"It 's  not  my  title,  sir." 

"It  is  your  title  on  my  territory,  madam." 

She  made  her  pretty  nose  and  upper  lip  ugly  with  a 
sneer  of  "DeAV — !  And  enter  that  town  before  all  those 
people  as  Duchess  of  .  .  .  Oh,  no,  I  won't;  I  just  won't! 
Call  back  those  men,  now,  please;  now,  if  you  please. 
Pray,  Mr.  Beamish!  You'll  offend  me,  sir.  I'm  not 
going  to  be  a  mock.  You  '11  offend  my  duke,  sir.  He  'd 
die  rather  than  have  my  feelings  hurt.  Here  's  all  my 
pleasure  spoilt.  I  won't  and  I  sha'n't  enter  the  town  as 
duchess  of  that  stupid  name,  so  call  'em  back,  call  'em 
back  this  instant.  I  know  who  I  am  and  what  I  am, 
and  I  know  what 's  due  to  me,  I  do." 

Beau  Beamish  rejoined,  "  I  too.  Chloe  will  tell  you  I  am 
lord  here." 

"Then  I  '11  go  home,  I  will.  I  won't  be  laughed  at  for 
a  great  lady  ninny.  I  'm  a  real  lady  of  high  rank,  and 
such  I  ;11  appear.  What 's  a  Duchess  of  Dewlap  ?  One 
might  as  well  be  Duchess  of  Cowstail,  Duchess  of  Mops- 
end.  And  those  people !  But  I  won't  be  that.  I  won't  be 
played  with.  I  see  them  staring!  No,  I  can  make  up  my 
mind,  and  I  beg  you  to  call  back  your  men,  or  I  '11  go  back 
home."    She  muttered,  "  Be  made  fun  of  —  made  a  fool  of!  " 

"Your  Grace's  chariot  is  behind,"  said  the  beau. 

His  despotic  coolness  provoked  her  to  an  outcry  and 
weeping:  she  repeated,  "Dewlap!  Dewlap!"  in  sobs;  she 
shook  her  shoulders  and  hid  her  face. 

"  You  are  proud  of  your  title,  are  you,  madam  ?  "  said 
he. 

"I  am."  She  came  out  of  her  hands  to  answer  him 
proudly.  "That  I  am!  "  she  meant  for  a  stronger  affirma- 
tion. 

"Then  mark  me,"  he  said  impressively;  "I  am  your 
duke's  friend,  and  you  are  under  my  charge  here.  I  am 
your  guardian  and  you  are  my  ward,  and  you  can  enter  the 
town  only  on  the  condition  of  obedience  to  me.  Now, 
mark  me,  madam ;  no  one  can  rob  you  of  your  real  name 
and  title  saving  yourself.  But  you  are  entering  a  place 
where  you  will  encounter  a  thousand  temptations  to  tar- 
nish, and  haply  forfeit  it.  Be  warned:  do  nothing  that 
will." 


22  THE  TALE   OF   CHLOE 

"  Then  I  'm  to  have  my  own  title  ?"  said  she,  clearing  up. 

"  For  the  month  of  your  visit  you  are  Duchess  of 
Dewlap." 

"I  say  Isha'n't!" 

"You  shall." 

"Never,  sir! " 

"I  command  it." 

She  flung  herself  forward,  with  a  wail,  upon  Chioe's 
bosom.  "Can't  you  do  something  for  me?"  she 
whimpered. 

"It  is  impossible  to  move  Mr.  Beamish,"  Chloe  said. 

Out  of  a  pause,  composed  of^sobs  and  sighs,  the  duchess 
let  loose  in  a  broken  voice :  'Clhen  I  'm  sure  I  think  —  I 
think  I  'd  rather  have  met  —  have  met  his  skeleton}  " 

Her  sincerity  was  equal  to  wit. 

Beau  Beamish  shouted.  He  cordially  applauded  her, 
and  in  the  genuine  kindness  of  an  admiration  that  sur- 
prised him,  he  permitted  himself  the  liberty  of  taking  and 
saluting  her  fingers.  She  fancied  there  was  another 
chance  for  her,  but  he  frowned  at  the  mention  of  it. 

Upon  these  proceedings  the  exhilarating  sound  of  the 
band  was  heard;  simultaneously  a  festival  peal  of  bells 
burst  forth;  and  an  admonishment  of  the  necessity  for 
concealing  her  chagrin  and  exhibiting  both  station  and  a 
countenance  to  the  people,  combined  with  the  excitement 
of  the  new  scenes  and  the  marching  music  to  banish  the 
acuter  sense  of  disappointment  from  Duchess  Susan's 
mind;  so  she  very  soon  held  herself  erect,  and  wore  a  face 
open  to  every  wonder,  impressionable  as  the  blue  lake- 
surface,  crisped  here  and  there  by  fitful  breezes  against  a 
level  sun. 


CHAPTER   IV 


It  was  an  axiom  with  Mr.  Beamish,  our  first,  if  not  our 
only  philosophical  beau  and  a  gentleman  of  some  thought- 
fulness,  that  the  social  English  require  tyrannical  govern- 
ment as  much  as  the  political  are  able  to  dispense  with  it: 
and  this  he  explained  by  an  exposition  of  the  character  of 


THE  TALE   OF   CHLOE  23 

a  race  possessed  of  the  eminent  virtue  of  individual  self- 
assertion,  which  causes  them  to  insist  on  good  elbow-room 
wherever  they  gather  together.  Society,  however,  not 
being  tolerable  where  the  smoothness  of  intercourse  is  dis- 
turbed by  a  perpetual  punching  of  sides,  the  merits  of  the 
free  citizen  in  them  become  their  demerits  when  a  frater- 
nal circle  is  established,  and  they  who  have  shown  an 
example  of  civilization  too  notable  in  one  sphere  to  call  for 
eulogy,  are  often  to  be  seen  elbowing  on  the  ragged  edge  of 
barbarism  in  the  other.  They  must  therefore  be  reduced 
to  accept  laws  not  of  their  own  making,  and  of  an  extreme 
rigidity. 

Here  too  is  a  further  peril;  for  the  gallant  spirits  distin- 
guishing them  in  the  state  of  independence  may  (he  fore- 
saw the  melancholy  experience  of  a  later  age)  abandon 
them  utterly  in  subjection,  and  the  glorious  boisterousness 
befitting  the  village  green  forsake  them  even  in  their 
haunts  of  liberal  association,  should  they  once  be  thor- 
oughly tamed  by  authority.  Our  "  merrie  England  "  will 
then  be  long-faced  England,  an  England  of  fallen  chaps, 
like  a  boar's  head,  bearing  for  speech  a  lemon  in  the 
mouth:  good  to  feast  on,  mayhap;  not  with! 

Mr.  Beamish  would  actually  seem  to  have  foreseen  the 
danger  of  a  transition  that  he  could  watch  over  only  in  his 
time;  and,  as  he  said,  "I  go,  as  I  came,  on  a  flash;  "  he 
had  neither  ancestry  nor  descendants :  he  was  a  genius ;  he 
knew  himself  a  solitary,  therefore,  in  spite  of  his  efforts 
to  create  his  like.  Within  his  district  he  did  effect  some- 
thing, enough  to  give  him  fame  as  one  of  the  princely 
fathers  of  our  domestic  civilization,  though  we  now  appear 
to  have  lost  by  it  more  than  formerly  we  gained.  The 
chasing  of  the  natural  is  ever  fraught  with  dubious 
hazards.  If  it  gallops  back,  according  to  the  proverb,  it 
will  do  so  at  the  charge:  commonly  it  gallops  off,  quite 
off;  and  then  for  any  kind  of  animation  our  precarious 
dependence  is  upon  brains:  we  have  to  live  on  our  wits, 
which  are  ordinarily  less  productive  than  land,  and  cannot 
be  remitted  in  entail. 

Rightly  or  wrongly  (there  are  differences  of  opinion 
about  it)  Mr.  Beamish  repressed  the  chthonic  natural 
vith  a  rod  of  iron  beneath  his  rule.     The  hoyden  and  the 


24  THE  TALE   OF   CHLOE 

bumpkin  had  no  peace  until  they  had  given  public  imita- 
tions of  the  lady  and  the  gentleman;  nor  were  the  lady 
and  the  gentleman  privileged  to  be  what  he  called  "free 
flags."  He  could  be  charitable  to  the  passion,  but  he  bel- 
lowed the  very  word  itself  (hauled  up  smoking  from  the 
brimstone  lake)  against  them  that  pretended  to  be  shame- 
lessly guilty  of  the  peccadilloes  of  gallantry.  His  famous 
accost  of  a  lady  threatening  to  sink,  and  already  perform- 
ing like  a  vessel  in  that  situation  —  "  So,  madam,  I  hear 
you  are  preparing  to  enrol  yourself  in  the  very  ancient 
order  ?  "  .  .  .  (he  named  it)  —  was  a  piece  of  insolence 
that  involved  him  in  some  discord  with  the  lady's  husband 
and  "the  rascal  steward,"  as  he  chose  to  term  the  third 
party  in  these  affairs :  yet  it  is  reputed  to  have  saved  the 
lady. 

Furthermore,  he  attacked  the  vulgarity  of  persons  of 
quality,  and  he  has  told  a  fashionable  dame  who  was  in- 
dulging herself  in  a  marked  sneer  of  disdain,  not  improving 
to  her  features,  "that  he  would  be  pleased  to  have  her 
assurance  it  was  her  face  she  presented  to  mankind :  "  a 
thing  —  thanks  perhaps  to  him  chiefly  —  no  longer  possible 
of  utterance.  One  of  the  sex  asking  him  why  he  addressed 
his  persecutions  particularly  to  women:  "Because  I 
fight  your  battle,"  says  he,  "and  I  find  you  in  the  ranks 
of  the  enemy."     He  treated  them  as  traitors. 

He  was  nevertheless  well  supported  by  a  sex  that  com- 
pensates for  dislike  of  its  friend  before  a  certain. age  by  a 
cordial  recognition  of  him  when  it  has  touched  the  period. 
A  phalanx  of  great  dames  gave  him  the  terrors  of  Olympus 
for  all  except  the  natively  audacious,  the  truculent  and 
the  insufferably  obtuse;  and  from  the  midst  of  them  he 
launched  decree  and  bolt  to  good  effect:  not,  of  course, 
without  receiving  return  missiles,  and  not  without  subse- 
quent question  whether  the  work  of  that  man  was  bene- 
ficial to  the  country,  who  indeed  tamed  the  bumpkin  squire 
and  his  brood,  but  at  the  cost  of  their  animal  spirits  and 
their  gift'of  speech;  viz.  by  making  petrifactions  of  them. 
In  the  surgical  operation  of  tracheotomy,  a  successful  treat- 
ment of  the  patient  hangs,  we  believe,  on  the  promptness 
and  skill  of  the  introduction  of  the  artificial  windpipe; 
and  it  may  be  that  our  unhappy  countrymen  when  cut  off 


THE  TALE   OF   CHLOE  25 

from  the  source  of  their  breath  were  not  neatly  handled; 
or  else  that  there  is  a  physical  opposition  in  them  to  any- 
thing artificial,  and  it  must  be  nature  or  nothing.  The 
dispute  shall  be  left  where  it  stands. 

Now,  to  veuture  upon  parading  a  beautiful  young 
Duchess  of  Dewlap,  with  an  odour  of  the  shepherdess 
about  her,  notwithstanding  her  acquired  art  of  stepping 
conformably  in  a  hoop,  and  to  demand  full  homage  of  re- 
spect for  a  lady  bearing  such  a  title,  who  had  the  intoxi- 
cating attractions  of  the  ruddy  orchard  apple  on  the  tree 
next  the  roadside  wall,  when  the  owner  is  absent,  was 
bold  in  Mr.  Beamish,  passing  temerity;  nor  would  even 
he  have  attempted  it  had  he  not  been  assured  of  the  sup- 
port of  his  phalanx  of  great  ladies.  They  indeed,  after 
being  taken  into  the  secret,  had  stipulated  that  first  they 
must  have  an  inspection  of  the  transformed  dairymaid; 
and  the  review  was  not  unfavourable.  Duchess  Susan 
came  out  of  it  more  scatheless  than  her  duke.  She  was 
tongue-tied,  and  her  tutored  walking  and  really  admirable 
stature  helped  her  to  appease  the  critics  of  her  sex;  by 
whom  her  too  readily  blushful  innocence  was  praised,  with 
a  reserve,  expressed  in  the  remark,  that  she  was  a  mon- 
strous fine  toy  for  a  duke's  second  childhood,  and  should 
never  have  been  let  fly  from  his  nursery.  Her  milliner 
was  approved.  The  duke  was  a  notorious  connoisseur  of 
female  charms,  and  would  see,  of  course,  to  the  decorous 
adornment  of  her  person  by  the  best  of  modistes.  Her 
smiling  was  pretty,  her  eyes  were  soft;  she  might  turn  out 
good,  if  well  guarded  for  a  time;  but  these  merits  of  the 
woman  are  not  those  of  the  great  lady,  and  her  title  was 
too  strong  a  beam  on  her  character  to  give  it  a  fair  chance 
with  her  critics.  They  one  and  all  recommended  powder 
for  her  hair  and  cheeks.  That  odour  of  the  shepherdess 
could  be  exorcised  by  no  other  means,  they  declared.  Her 
blushing  was  indecent. 

Truly  the  critics  of  the  foeman  sex  behaved  in  a  way  to 
cause  the  blushes  to  swarm  rosy  as  the  troops  of  young 
Loves  round  Cytherea  in  her  sea-birth,  when,  some  soar- 
ing, and  sinking  some,  they  flutter  like  her  loosened  zone, 
and  breast  the  air  thick  as  flower  petals  on  the  summer's 
breath,  weaving  her  net  for  the  world.     Duchess  Susan 


26  THE  TALE  OF  CHLOE 

might  protest  her  inability  to  keep  her  blushes  down ;  that 
the  wrong  was  done  by  the  insolent  eyes,  and  not  by  her 
artless  cheeks.  Ay,  but  nature,  if  we  are  to  tame  these 
men,  must  be  swathed  and  concealed,  partly  stifled,  abso- 
lutely stifled  upon  occasion.  The  natural  woman  does  not 
move  a  foot  without  striking  earth  to  conjure  up  the  horrid 
apparition  of  the  natural  man,  who  is  not  as  she,  but  a 
cannibal  savage.  To  be  the  light  which  leads,  it  is  her 
business  to  don  the  misty  vesture  of  an  idea,  that  she  may 
dwell  as  an  idea  in  men's  minds,  very  dim,  very  powerful, 
but  abstruse,  unseizable.  Much  wisdom  was  imparted  to 
her  on  the  subject,  and  she  understood  a  little,  and  echoed 
hollow  to  the  remainder,  willing  to  show  entire  docility  as 
far  as  her  intelligence  consented  to  be  awake.  She  was  in 
that  stage  of  the  dainty,  faintly  tinged  innocence  of  the 
amorousness  of  themselves  when  beautiful  young  women 
who  have  not  been  caught  for  schooling  in  infancy  deem 
it  a  defilement  to  be  made  to  appear  other  than  the  blessed 
nature  has  made  them,  which  has  made  them  beautiful, 
and  surely  therefore  deserves  to  be  worshipped.  The  lec- 
tures of  the  great  ladies  and  Chloe's  counsels  failed  to  per- 
suade her  to  use  the  powder  puff-ball.  Perhaps  too,  as 
timidity  quitted  her,  she  enjoyed  her  distinctiveness  in 
their  midst. 

But  the  distinctiveness  of  a  Duchess  of  Dewlap  with  the 
hair  and  cheeks  of  our  native  fields,  was  fraught  with 
troubles  outrunning  Mr.  Beamish's  calculations.  He  had 
perceived  that  she  would  be  attractive ;  he  had  not  reck- 
oned on  the  homogeneousness  of  her  particular  English 
charms.  A  beauty  in  red,  white,  and  blue  is  our  goddess 
Venus  with  the  apple  of  Paris  in  her  hand;  and  after  two 
visits  to  the  Pump  Room,  and  one  promenade  in  the  walks 
about  the  Assembly  House,  she  had  as  completely  divided 
the  ordinary  guests  of  the  Wells  into  male  and  female  in 
opinion  as  her  mother  Nature  had  done  it  in  sex.  And 
the  men  would  not  be  silenced;  they  had  gazed  on  their 
divinest,  and  it  was  for  the  women  to  succumb  to  that 
unwholesome  state,  so  full  of  thunder.  Knights  and 
squires,  military  and  rural,  threw  up  their  allegiance  right 
and  left  to  devote  themselves  to  this  robust  new  vision, 
and  in  their  peculiar  manner,  with  a  general  View-halloo, 


THE   TALE   OF   CHLOE  27 

and  Yoicks,  Tally-ho,  and  away  we  go,  pelt  ahead!  Un- 
exampled as  it  is  in  England  for  Beauty  to  kindle  the 
ardours  of  the  scent  of  the  fox,  Duchess  Susan  did  more  — 
she  turned  all  her  followers  into  hounds ;  they  were  mad- 
men: within  a  very  few  days  of  her  entrance  bets  raged 
about  her,  and  there  were  brawls,  jolly  flings  at  her  char- 
acter in  the  form  of  lusty  encomium,  givings  of  the  lie, 
and  upon  one  occasion  a  knock-down  blow  in  public,  as 
though  the  place  had  never  known  the  polishing  touch  of 
Mr.  Beamish. 

He  was  thrown  into  great  perplexity  by  that  blow. 
Discountenancing  the  duel  as  much  as  he  could,  an  affair 
of  the  sword  was  nevertheless  more  tolerable  than  the 
brutal  fist:  and  of  all  men  to  be  guilty  of  it,  who  would 
have  anticipated  the  young  AIodzo,  Chloe's  quiet,  modest 
lover!  He  it  was.  The  case  came  before  Mr.  Beamish  for 
his  decision;  he  had  to  pronounce  an  impartial  judgement, 
and  for  some  time,  during  the  examination  of  evidence,  he 
suffered,  as  he  assures  us  in  his  Memoirs,  a  royal  agony. 
To  have  to  strike  with  the  glaive  of  Justice  them  whom 
they  most  esteem,  is  the  greatest  affliction  known  to  kings. 
He  would  have  done  it:  he  deserved  to  reign.  Happily 
the  evidence  against  the  gentleman  who  was  tumbled,  Mr. 
Ealph  Shepster,  excused  Mr.  Augustus  Camwell,  otherwise 
Alonzo,  for  dealing  with  him  promptly  to  shut  his  mouth. 

This  Shepster,  a  raw  young  squire,  "reeking,"  Beau 
Beamish  writes  of  him,  "  one  half  of  the  soil,  and  t'  other 
half  of  the  town,"  had  involved  Chloe  in  his  familiar 
remarks  upon  the  Duchess  of  Dewlap;  and  the  personal 
respect  entertained  by  Mr.  Beamish  for  Chloe  so  strongly 
approved  Alonzo's  championship  of  her,  that  in  giving 
judgement  he  laid  stress  on  young  Alonzo's  passion  for 
Chloe,  to  prove  at  once  the  disinterestedness  of  the  assail- 
ant, and  the  judicial  nature  of  the  sentence:  which  was, 
that  Mr.  Ralph  Shepster  should  undergo  banishment,  and 
had  the  right  to  demand  reparation.  The  latter  part  of 
this  decree  assisted  in  effecting  the  execution  of  the 
former.  Shepster  declined  cold  steel,  calling  it  murder, 
and  was  effusive  of  nature's  logic  on  the  subject: 

"  Because  a  man  comes  and  knocks  me  down,  I  'm  to  go 
up  to  him  and  ask  him  to  run  me  through ! " 


28  THE   TALE   OF   CHLOE 

His  shake  of  the  head  signified  that  he  was  not  such  a 
noodle.  Voluble  and  prolific  of  illustration,  as  is  no  one 
so  much  as  a  son  of  nature  inspired  to  speak  her  words  of 
wisdom,  he  defied  the  mandate,  and  refused  himself  satis- 
faction, until  in  the  strangest  manner  possible  flights  of 
white  feathers  beset  him,  and  he  became  a  mark  for  per- 
secution too  trying  for  the  friendship  of  his  friends.  He 
fled,  repeating  his  tale,  that  he  had  seen  "Beamish's 
Duchess,"  and  Chloe  attending  her,  at  an  assignation  in 
the  South  Grove,  where  a  gentleman,  unknown  to  the 
Wells,  presented  himself  to  the  adventurous  ladies,  and 
they  walked  together  —  a  tale  ending  with  nods. 

Shepster's  banishment  was  one  of  those  victories  of  jus- 
tice upon  which  mankind  might  be  congratulated  if  they 
left  no  commotion  behind.  But,  as  when  a  boy  has  been 
horsed  before  his  comrades,  dread  may  visit  them,  yet  is 
there  likewise  devilry  in  the  school;  and  everywhere  over 
earth  a  summary  punishment  that  does  not  sweep  the  place 
clear  is  likely  to  infect  whom  it  leaves  remaining.  The 
great  law-givers,  Lycurgus,  Draco,  Solon,  Beamish,  sor- 
rowfully acknowledge  that  they  have  had  recourse  to 
infernal  agents,  after  they  have  thus  purified  their  circle 
of  an  offender.  Doctors  confess  to  the  same  of  their 
physic.  The  expelling  agency  has  next  to  be  expelled,  and 
it  is  a  subtle  poison,  affecting  our  spirits.  Duchess  Susan 
had  now  the  incense  of  a  victim  to  heighten  her  charms ; 
like  the  treasure-laden  Spanish  galleon  for  whom,  on  her 
voyage  home  from  South  American  waters,  our  enterpris- 
ing light-craft  privateers  lay  in  wait,  she  had  the  double 
attraction  of  being  desirable  and  an  enemy.  To  watch 
above  her  conscientiously  was  a  harassing  business. 

Mr.  Beamish  sent  for  Chloe,  and  she  came  to  him  at  once. 
Her  look  was  curious ;  he  studied  it  while  they  conversed. 
So  looks  one  who  is  watching  the  sure  flight  of  an  arrow, 
or  the  happy  combinations  of  an  intrigue.  Saying,  "  I  am 
no  inquisitor,  child,"  he  ventured  upon  two  or  three 
modest  inquisitions  with  regard  to  her  mistress.  The 
title  he  had  disguised  Duchess  Susan  in,  he  confessed  to 
rueing  as  the  principal  cause  of  the  agitation  of  his  princi- 
pality. "She  is  courted,"  he  said,  "less  like  a  citadel 
waving  a   flag  than   a  hostelry  where  the  demand  is  for 


THE   TALE   OF   CHLOE  29 

sitting-room  and  a  tankard!  These  be  our  manners.  Yet, 
I  must  own,  a  Duchess  of  Dewlap  is  a  provocation,  and 
my  exclusive  desire  to  protect  the  name  of  my  lord  stands 
corrected  by  the  perils  environing  his  lady.  She  is  other 
than  I  supposed  her;  she  is,  we  will  hope,  an  excellent 
good  creature,  but  too  attractive  for  moat  and  drawbridge 
and  the  customary  defences  to  be  neglected." 

Chloe  met  his  interrogatory  with  a  ready  report  of  the 
young  duchess's  innocence  and  good  nature  that  pacified 
Mr.  Beamish. 

"  And  you  ?  "  said  he. 

She  smiled  for  answer. 

That  smile  was  not  the  common  smile;  it  was  one  of 
an  eager  exultingness,  producing  as  he  gazed  the  twitch  of 
an  inquisitive  reflection  of  it  on  his  lips.  Such  a  smile 
bids  us  guess  and  quickens  us  to  guess,  warns  us  we  burn 
and  speeds  our  burning,  and  so,  like  an  angel  wafting  us 
to  some  heaven-feasting  promontory,  lifts  us  out  of  our- 
selves to  see  in  the  universe  of  colour  what  the  mouth  has 
but  pallid  speech  to  tell.  That  is  the  very  heart's  lan- 
guage ;  the  years  are  in  a  look,  as  mount  and  vale  of  the 
dark  land  spring  up  in  lightning. 

He  checked  himself :  he  scarce  dared  to  say  it. 

She  nodded. 

"You  have  seen  the  man,  Chloe  ?" 

Her  smiling  broke  up  in  the  hard  lines  of  an  ecstasy 
neighbouring  pain.  "He  has  come;  he  is  here;  he  is 
faithful;  he  has  not  forgotten  me.  I  was  right.  I  knew! 
I  knew!  " 

"  Caseldy  has  come  ?  " 

"He  has  come.  Do  not  ask.  To  have  him!  to  see  him! 
Mr.  Beamish,  he  is  here." 

"At  last!" 

"Cruel!" 

"  Well,  Caseldy  has  come,  then !  But  now,  friend  Chloe, 
you  should  be  made  aware  that  the  man " 

She  stopped  her  ears.  As  she  did  so,  Mr.  Beamish 
observed  a  thick  silken  skein  dangling  from  one  hand. 
Part  of  it  was  plaited,  and  at  the  upper  end  there  was  a 
knot.  It  resembled  the  commencement  of  her  manufac- 
tory of  a  whip:  she  swayed  it  to  and  fro,  allowing  him  to 


30  THE  TALE   OF   CHLOE 

catch  and  lift  the  threads  on  his  fingers  for  the  purpose  of 
examining  her  work.  There  was  no  special  compliment  to 
pay,  so  he  dropped  it  without  remark. 

Their  faces  had  expressed  her  wish  to  hear  nothing 
from  him  of  Caseldy  and  his  submission  to  say  nothing. 
Her  happiness  was  too  big;  she  appeared  to  beg  to  lie 
down  with  it  on  her  bosom,  in  the  manner  of  an  outworn 
young  mother  who  has  now  first  received  her  infant  in, 
her  arms  from  the  nurse. 


CHAPTER  V 


Humouring  Chloe  with  his  usual  considerateness,  Mr. 
Beamish  forebore  to  cast  a  shadow  on  her  new-born  joy, 
and  even  within  himself  to  doubt  the  security  of  its  foun- 
dation. Caseldy's  return  to  the  Wells  was  at  least  some 
assurance  of  his  constancy,  seeing  that  here  they  appointed 
to  meet  when  he  and  Chloe  last  parted.  All  might  be  well, 
though  it  was  unexplained  why  he  had  not  presented  him- 
self earlier.  To  the  lightest  inquiry  Chloe's  reply  was  a 
shiver  of  happiness. 

Moreover,  Mr.  Beamish  calculated  that  Caseldy  would 
be  a  serviceable  ally  in  commanding  a  proper  respect  for 
her  Grace  the  Duchess  of  Dewlap.  So  he  betook  himself 
cheerfully  to  Caseldy's  lodgings  to  deliver  a  message  of 
welcome,  meeting,  on  his  way  thither,  Mr.  Augustus 
Camwell,  with  whom  he  had  a  short  conversation,  greatly 
to  his  admiration  of  the  enamoured  young  gentleman's 
goodness  and  self-compression  in  speaking  of  Caseldy  and 
Chloe's  better  fortune.     Mr.  Camwell  seemed  hurried. 

Caseldy  was  not  at  home,  and  Mr.  Beamish  proceeded  to 
the  lodgings  of  the  duchess.  Chloe  had  found  her  absent. 
The  two  consulted.  Mr.  Beamish  put  on  a  serious  air, 
until  Chloe  mentioned  the  pastrycook's  shop,  for  Duchess 
Susan  had  a  sweet  tooth;  she  loved  a  visit  to  the  pastry- 
cook's, whose  jam  tarts  were  dearer  to  her  than  his  more 
famous  hot  mutton  pies.  The  pastrycook  informed  Mr. 
Beamish  that  her  Grace  had  been  in  his  shop,  earlier  than 


THE  TALE  OF  CHLOE  81 

usual,  as  it  happened,  and  accompanied  by  a  foreign- 
looking  gentleman  wearing  moustachios.  Her  Grace,  the 
pastrycook  said,  had  partaken  of  several  tarts,  in  common 
with  the  gentleman,  who  complimented  him  upon  his 
excelling  the  Continental  confectioner.  Mr.  Beamish 
glanced  at  Chloe.  He  pursued  his  researches  down  at  the 
Pump  Room,  while  she  looked  round  the  ladies'  coffee 
house.  Encountering  again,  they  walked  back  to  the 
duchess's  lodgings,  where  a  band  stood  playing  in  the  road, 
by  order  of  her  Grace ;  but  the  duchess  was  away,  and  had 
not  been  seen  since  her  morning's  departure. 

"  What  sort  of  character  would  you  give  mistress  Susan 
of  Dewlap,  from  your  personal  acquaintance  with  it?" 
said  Mr.  Beamish  to  Chloe,  as  they  stepped  from  the  door. 

Chloe  mused  and  said,  "I  would  add  'good  '  to  the  un- 
kindest  comparison  you  could  find  for  her." 

"But  accepting  the  comparison ! "  Mr.  Beamish  nodded, 
and  revolved  upon  the  circumstance  of  their  being  very 
much  in  nature's  hands  with  Duchess  Susan,  of  whom  it 
might  be  said  that  her  character  was  good,  yet  all  the 
more  alive  to  the  temptations  besetting  the  Spring  season. 
He  allied  Chloe's  adjective  to  a  number  of  epithets  equally 
applicable  to  nature  and  to  women,  according  to  current 
ideas,  concluding:  "Count,  they  call  your  Caseldy  at  his 
lodgings.  '  The  Count  he  is  out  for  an  airing.'  He  is 
counted  out.  Ah !  you  will  make  him  drop  that l  Count ' 
when  he  takes  you  from  here." 

"Do  not  speak  of  the  time  beyond  the  month,"  said 
Chloe,  so  urgently  on  a  rapid  breath  as  to  cause  Mr. 
Beamish  to  cast  an  inquiring  look  at  her. 

She  answered  it,  "Is  not  one  month  of  brightness  as 
much  as  we  can  ask  for  ?  " 

The  beau  clapped  his  elbows  complacently  to  his  sides  in 
philosophical  concord  with  her  sentiment. 

In  the  afternoon,  on  the  parade,  they  were  joined  by 
Mr.  Camwell,  among  groups  of  fashionable  ladies  and  their 
escorts,  pacing  serenely,  by  medical  prescription,  for  an 
appetite.  As  he  did  not  comment  on  the  absence  of  the 
duchess,  Mr.  Beamish  alluded  to  it;  whereupon  he  was 
informed  that  she  was  about  the  meadows,  and  had  been 
there  for  some  hours- 


32  THE  TALE  OF   CHLOE 

"Not  unguarded,"  he  replied  to  Mr.  Beamish. 

"Aha!"  quoth  the  latter;  "we  have  an  Argus!"  and  as 
the  duchess  was  not  on  the  heights,  and  the  sun's  rays 
were  mild  in  cloud,  he  agreed  to  his  young  friend's  pro- 
posal that  they  should  advance  to  meet  her.  Chloe 
walked  with  them,  but  her  face  was  disdainful;  at  the 
stiles  she  gave  her  hand  to  Mr.  Beamish;  she  did  not 
address  a  word  to  Mr.  Camwell,  and  he  knew  the  reason. 
Nevertheless  he  maintained  his  air  of  soldierly  resignation 
to  the  performance  of  duty,  and  held  his  head  like  a  gen- 
tleman unable  to  conceive  the  ignominy  of  having  played 
spy.     Chloe  shrank  from  him. 

Duchess  Susan  was  distinguished  coming  across  a  broad 
uncut  meadow,  tirra-lirraing  beneath  a  lark,  Caseldy  in 
attendance  on  her.  She  stopped  short  and  spoke  to  him; 
then  came  forward,  crying  ingenuously,  "  Oh,  Mr.  Beamish, 
is  n't  this  just  what  you  wanted  me  to  do  ?  " 

"No,  madam,"  said  he,  "you  had  my  injunctions  to  the 
contrary." 

"La! "  she  exclaimed,  "I  thought  I  was  to  run  about  in 
the  fields  now  and  then  to  preserve  my  simplicity.  I  know 
I  was  told  so,  and  who  told  me !  " 

Mr.  Beamish  bowed  effusively  to  the  introduction  of 
Caseldy,  whose  fingers  he  touched  in  sign  of  the  renewal 
of  acquaintance,  and  with  a  laugh  addressed  the  duchess : 
"  Madam,  you  remind  me  of  a  tale  of  my  infancy.  I  had  a 
juvenile  comrade  of  the  tenderest  age,  by  name  Tommy 
Plumston,  and  he  enjoyed  the  privilege  of  intimacy  with  a 
component  urchin  yclept  Jimmy  Clungeon,  with  which 
adventurous  roamer,  in  defiance  of  his  mother's  interdict 
against  his  leaving  the  house  for  a  minute  during  her 
absence  from  home,  he  departed  on  a  tour  of  the  district, 
resulting,  perhaps  as  a  consequence  of  its  completeness, 
in  this,  that  at  a  distance  computed  at  four  miles  from  the 
maternal  mansion,  he  perceived  his  beloved  mama  with 
sufficient  clearness  to  feel  sure  that  she  likewise  had  seen 
him.  Tommy  consulted  with  Jimmy,  and  then  he  sprang 
forward  on  a  run  to  his  frowning  mama,  and  delivered 
himself  in  these  artless  words,  which  I  repeat  as  they 
were  uttered,  to  give  you  the  flavour  of  the  innocent  babe : 
he  said,  '  I  frink  I  frought  I  hear  you  call  me,  ma!  and 


THE   TALE   OF   CHLOE  33 

Jimmy  dungeon,  lie  frought  he  frink  so  too!'  So,  you 
see,  the  pair  of  them  were  under  the  impression  that  they 
were  doing  right.  There  is  a  delicate  distinction  in  the 
tenses  of  each  frinking  where  the  other  frought,  enough  in 
itself  to  stamp  siucerity  upon  the  statement." 

Caseldy  said,  "The  veracity  of  a  boy  possessing  a 
friend  named  Clungeon  is  beyond  contest." 

Duchess  Susan  opened  her  eyes.  "Four  miles  from 
home!     And  what  did  his  mother  do  to  him?" 

"Tommy's  mama,"  said  Mr.  Beamish,  and  with  the  re- 
splendent licence  of  the  period  which  continued  still  upon 
tolerable  terms  with  nature  under  the  compromise  of 
decorous  "Oh-fie!  ",  flatly  declared  the  thing  she  did. 

"I  fancy,  sir,  that  I  caught  sight  of  your  figure  on  the 
hill  yonder  about  an  hour  or  so  earlier,"  said  Caseldy  to 
Mr.  Gamwell. 

"  If  it  was  at  the  time  when  you  were  issuing  from 
that  wood,  sir,  your  surmise  is  correct,"  said  the  young 
gentleman. 

"  You  are  long-sighted,  sir  1 " 

"  I  am,  sir." 

"And  so  am  I." 

"  And  I,"  said  Chloe. 

"Our  Chloe  will  distinguish  you  accurately  at  a  mile, 
and  has  done  it,"  observed  Mr.  Beamish. 

"  One  guesses  tiptoe  on  a  suspicion,  and  if  one  is  wrong 
it  passes,  and  if  one  is  right  it  is  a  miracle,"  she  said,  and 
raised  her  voice  on  a  song  to  quit  the  subject. 

"Ay,  ay,  Chloe;  so  then  you  had  a  suspicion,  you  rogue, 
the  day  we  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  the  duchess,  had 
you  ?  "  Mr.  Beamish  persisted. 

Duchess  Susan  interposed.  "  Such  a  pretty  song !  and 
you  to  stop  her,  sir ! " 

Caseldy  took  up  the  air. 

"  Oh,  you  two  together !  "  she  cried.  "  I  do  love  hearing 
music  in  the  fields ;  it  is  heavenly.  Bands  in  the  town 
and  voices  in  the  green  fields,  I  say  !  Could  n't  you  join 
Chloe,  Mr.  .  .  .  Count,  sir,  before  we  come  among  the 
people,  here  where  it 'sail  so  nice  and  still.  Music!  and 
my  heart  does  begin  so  to  pit-a-pat.  Do  you  sing,  Mr. 
Alonzo  ?  " 


34  THE  TALE  OF   CHLOE 

"Poorly,"  the  young  gentleman  replied. 

"But  the  Count  can  sing,  and  Chloe's  a  real  angel  when 
she  sings  ;  and  won't  you,  dear  ?  "  she  implored  Chloe,  to 
whom  Caseldy  addressed  a  prelude  with  a  bow  and  a 
flourish  of  the  hand. 

Chloe's  voice  flew  forth.  Caseldy's  rich  masculine 
matched  it.  The  song  was  gay ;  he  snapped  his  finger  at 
intervals  in  foreign  style,  singing  big-chested,  with  full 
notes  and  a  fine  abandonment,  and  the  quickest  suscepti- 
bility to  his  fair  companion's  cunning  modulations,  and 
an  eye  for  Duchess  Susan's  rapture. 

Mr.  Beamish  and  Mr.  Camwell  applauded  them. 

"I  never  can  tell  what  to  say  when  I'm  brimming;" 
the  duchess  let  fall  a  sigh.  "  And  he  can  play  the  flute, 
Mr.  Beamish.  He  promised  me  he  would  go  into  the 
orchestra  and  play  a  bit  at  one  of  your  nice  evening  de- 
licious concerts,  and  that  will  be  nice  —  Oh  !  " 

"He  promised  you,  madam,  did  he  so  ?"  said  the  beau. 
"  Was  it  on  your  way  to  the  Wells  that  he  promised  you  ?  " 

"  On  my  way  to  the  Wells ! "  she  exclaimed  softly. 
"Why,  how  could  anybody  promise  me  a  thing  before 
ever  he  saw  me  ?  I  call  that  a  strange  thing  to  ask  a 
person.  No,  to-day,  while  we  were  promenading ;  and  I 
should  hear  him  sing,  he  said.  He  does  admire  his  Chloe 
so.  Why,  no  wonder,  is  it,  now  ?  She  can  do  everything  ; 
knit,  sew,  sing,  dance  —  and  talk  !  She 's  never  uneasy 
for  a  word.  She  makes  whole  scenes  of  things  go  round 
you,  like  a  picture  peep-show,  I  tell  her.  And  always 
cheerful.  She  has  n't  a  minute  of  grumps  ;  and  I  'm  some- 
times a  dish  of  stale  milk  fit  only  for  pigs.  With  your 
late  hours  here,  I  'm  sure  I  want  tickling  in  the  morning, 
and  Chloe  carols  me  one  of  her  songs,  and  I  say,  '  There  's 
my  bird ! '  " 

Mr.  Beamish  added,  "  And  you  will  remember  she  has 
a  heart." 

"  I  should  think  so  !  "  said  the  duchess. 

"  A  heart,  madam  !  " 

"  Why,  what  else  ?  " 

Nothing  other,  the  beau,  by  his  aspect,  was  constrained 
to  admit. 

He  appeared  puzzled  by  this  daughter  nf  nature  in  a 


THE  TALE   OF   CHLOE  35 

coronet ;  and  more  on  her  remarking,  "  You  know  about 
her  heart,  Mr.  Beamish." 

He  acquiesced,  for  of  course  he  knew  of  her  lifelong 
devotion  to  Caseldy ;  but  there  was  archness  in  her  tone. 
However,  he  did  not  expect  a  woman  of  her  education  to 
have  the  tone  perfectly  concordant  with  the  circumstances. 
Speaking  tentatively  of  Caseldy's  handsome  face  and  figure, 
he  was  pleased  to  hear  the  duchess  say,  "  So  I  tell  Chloe." 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "we  must  consider  them  united;  they 
are  one." 

Duchess  Susan  replied,  "  That 's  what  I  tell  him  ;  she 
will  do  anything  you  wish." 

He  repeated  these  words  with  an  interjection,  and  de- 
cided in  his  mind  that  they  were  merely  silly.  She  was 
a  real  shepherdess  by  birth  and  nature,  requiring  a  strong 
guard  over  her  attractions  on  account  of  her  simplicity; 
such  was  his  reading  of  the  problem ;  he  had  conceived  it 
at  the  first  sight  of  her,  and  always  recurred  to  it  under 
the  influence  of  her  artless  eyes,  though  his  theories  upon 
men  and  women  were  astute,  and  that  cavalier  perceived 
by  long-sighted  Chloe  at  Duchess  Susan's  coach  window 
perturbed  him  at  whiles.  Habitually  to  be  anticipating 
the  simpleton  in  a  particular  person  is  the  sure  way  of 
being  sometimes  the  dupe,  as  he  would  not  have  been  the 
last  to  warn  a  neophyte ;  but  abstract  wisdom  is  in  need 
of  an  unappeased  suspicion  of  much  keenness  of  edge,  if 
we  would  have  it  alive  to  cope  with  artless  eyes  and  our 
prepossessed  fancy  of  their  artlessness. 

"  You  talk  of  Chloe  to  him  ?  "  he  said. 

She  answered,  "  Yes,  that  I  do.  And  he  does  love  her ! 
I  like  to  hear  him.  He  is  one  of  the  gentlemen  who  don't 
make  me  feel  timid  with  them." 

She  received  a  short  lecture  on  the  virtues  of  timidity 
in  preserving  the  sex  from  danger  ;  after  which,  consider- 
ing that  the  lady  who  does  not  feel  timid  with  a  particular 
cavalier  has  had  no  sentiment  awakened,  he  relinquished 
his  place  to  Mr.  Camwell,  and  proceeded  to  administer  the 
probe  to  Caseldy. 

That  gentleman  was  communicatively  candid.  Chloe  had 
left  him,  and  he  related  how,  summoned  home  to  England 
and  compelled  to  settle  a  dispute  threatening  a  lawsuit,  he 


36  THE  TALE   OF   CHLOE 

had  regretfully  to  abstain  from  visiting  the  Wells  for  a 
season,  not  because  of  any  fear  of  the  attractions  of  play 
—  he  had  subdued  the  frailty  of  the  desire  to  play  —  but 
because  he  deemed  it  due  to  his  Chloe  to  bring  her  an  un- 
troubled face,  and  he  wished  first  to  be  the  better  of  the 
serious  annoyances  besetting  him.  For  some  similar  rea- 
son he  had  not  written  ;  he  wished  to  feast  on  her  surprise. 
"And  I  had  my  reward,"  he  said,  as  if  he  had  been  the 
person  principally  to  suffer  through  that  abstinence.  "I 
found  —  I  may  say  it  to  you,  Mr.  Beamish  —  love  in  her 
eyes.  Divine  by  nature,  she  is  one  of  the  immortals,  both 
in  appearance  and  in  steadfastness." 

They  referred  to  Duchess  Susan.  Caseldy  reluctantly 
owned  that  it  would  be  an  unkindness  to  remove  Chloe 
from  attendance  on  her  during  the  short  remaining  term 
of  her  stay  at  the  Wells ;  and  so  he  had  not  proposed  it, 
he  said,  for  the  duchess  was  a  child,  an  innocent,  not  stupid 
by  any  means  ;  but,  of  course,  her  transplanting  from  an 
inferior  to  an  exalted  position  put  her  under  disadvantages. 

Mr.  Beamish  spoke  of  the  difficulties  of  his  post  as 
guardian,  and  also  of  the  strange  cavalier  seen  at  her 
carriage  window  by  Chloe. 

Caseldy  smiled  and  said,  "  If  there  was  one  —  and  Chloe 
is  rather  long-sighted  —  we  can  hardly  expect  her  to  con- 
fess it." 

"  Why  not,  sir,  if  she  be  this  piece  of  innocence  ? "  Mr. 
Beamish  was  led  to  inquire. 

"  She  fears  you,  sir,"  Caseldy  answered.  "  You  have 
inspired  her  with  an  extraordinary  fear  of  you." 

"  I  have  ?  "  said  the  beau :  it  had  been  his  endeavour  to 
inspire  it,  and  he  swelled  somewhat,  rather  with  relief  at 
the  thought  of  his  possessing  a  power  to  control  his  deli- 
cate charge,  than  with  our  vanity ;  yet  would  it  be  auda- 
cious to  say  that  there  was  not  a  dose  of  the  latter.  He 
was  a  very  human  man;  and  he  had,  as  we  have  seen,  his 
ideas  of  the  effect  of  the  impression  of  fear  upon  the  hearts 
of  women.  Something,  in  any  case,  caused  him  to  forget 
the  cavalier. 

They  were  drawn  to  the  three  preceding  them,  by  a 
lively  dissension  between  Chloe  and  Mr.  Camwell. 

Duchess  Susan  explained  it  in  her  blunt  style:    "She 


THE   TALE   OF   CHLOE  37 

wants  him  to  go  away  home,  and  he  says  he  will,  if  she  '11 
give  him  that  double  skein  of  silk  she  swings  about,  and 
she  says  she  won't,  let  him  ask  as  long  as  he  pleases ;  so 
he  says  he  sha'n't  go,  and  I  'm  sure  I  don't  see  why  he 
should ;  and  she  says  he  may  stay,  but  he  sha'n't  have  her 
necklace,  she  calls  it.  So  Mr.  Oamwell  snatches,  and  Chloe 
fires  up.  Gracious,  can't  she  frown  !  — at  him.  She  never 
frowns  at  anybody  but  him." 

Caseldy  attempted  persuasion  on  Mr.  Cam  well's  behalf. 
With  his  mouth  at  Chloe's  ear,  he  said,  "  Give  it ;  let  the 
poor  fellow  have  his  memento ;  despatch  him  with  it." 

"I  can  hear  !  and  that  is  really  kind,"  exclaimed  Duchess 
Susan. 

"  Rather  a  missy-missy  schoolgirl  sort  of  necklace,"  Mr. 
Beamish  observed ;  "  but  he  might  have  it,  without  the  dis- 
missal, for  I  cannot  consent  to  lose  Alonzo.  !No,  madam/' 
he  nodded  at  the  duchess. 

Caseldy  continued  his  whisper:  "You  can't  think  of 
wearing  a  thing  like  that  about  your  neck?" 

"  Indeed,"  said  Chloe,  "  I  think  of  it." 

"  Why,  what  fashion  have  you  over  here  ?  " 

"It  is  not  yet  a  fashion,"  she  said. 

"A  silken  circlet  will  not  well  become  any  precious  pen- 
dant  that  I  know  of." 

"  A  bag  of  dust  is  not  a  very  precious  pendant,"  she  said. 

"Oh,  a  memento  mori!  "  cried  he. 

And  she  answered,  "Yes." 

He  rallied  her  for  her  superstition,  pursuing,  "Surely, 
my  love,  'tis  a  cheap  riddance  of  a  pestilent,  intrusive 
jaloux.     Whip  it  into  his  hands  for  a  mittimus." 

"  Does  his  presence  distress  you  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  will  own  that  to  be  alwaj's  having  the  fellow  dogging 
us,  with  his  dejected  leer,  is  not  agreeable.  He  watches 
us  now,  because  my  lips  are  close  by  your  cheek.  He 
should  be  absent ;  he  is  one  too  many.  Speed  him  on  his 
voyage  with  the  souvenir  he  asks  for." 

"I  keep  it  for  a  journey  of  my  own,  which  I  may  have 
to  take,"  said  Chloe. 

"  With  me  ?  " 

"You  will  follow;  you  cannot  help  following  me, 
Caseldy." 


38  THE  TALE  OF   CHLOE 

He  speculated  on  her  front.     She  was  tenderly  smiling. 

"  You  are  happy,  Chloe  ?  " 

"I  have  never  known  such  happiness,"  she  said.  The 
brilliancy  of  her  eyes  confirmed  it. 

He  glanced  over  at  Duchess  Susan,  who  was  like  a  sun- 
flower in  the  sun.  His  glance  lingered  a  moment.  Her 
abundant  and  glowing  young  charms  were  the  richest  fas- 
cination an  eye  like  his  could  dwell  on.  "  That  is  right," 
said  he.  "We  will  be  perfectly  happy  till  the  month  ends. 
And  after  it  ?  But  get  us  rid  of  Monsieur  le  Jeune ;  toss 
him  that  trifle ;  I  spare  him  that.  'T  will  be  bliss  to  him, 
at  the  cost  of  a  bit  of  silk  thread  to  us.  Besides,  if  we 
keep  him  to  cure  him  of  his  passion  here,  might  it  not  be 
—  these  boys  veer  suddenly,  like  the  winds  of  Albion,  from 
one  fair  object  to  t'  other  —  at  the  cost  of  the  precious  and 
simple  lady  you  are  guarding  ?  I  merely  hint.  These  two 
affect  one  another,  as  though  it  could  be.  She  speaks  of 
him.  It  shall  be  as  you  please;  but  a  trifle  like  that,  my 
Chloe,  to  be  rid  of  a  green  eye  !  " 

"  You  much  wish  him  gone  ?  "  she  said. 

He  shrugged.     "  The  fellow  is  in  our  way." 

"  You  think  him  a  little  perilous  for  my  innocent  lady  ?  " 

"Candidly,  I  do." 

She  stretched  the  half -plaited  silken  rope  in  her  two 
hands  to  try  the  strength  of  it,  made  a  second  knot,  and 
consigned  it  to  her  pocket. 

At  once  she  wore  her  liveliest  playfellow  air,  in  which 
character  no  one  was  so  enchanting  as  Chloe  could  be,  for 
she  became  the  comrade  of  men  without  forfeit  of  her 
station  among  sage  sweet  ladies,  and  was  like  a  well-man- 
nered sparkling  boy,  to  whom  his  admiring  seniors  have 
given  the  lead  in  sallies,  whims,  and  flights ;  but  pleasanter 
than  a  boy,  the  soft  hues  of  her  sex  toned  her  frolic  spirit ; 
she  seemed  her  sex's  deputy,  to  tell  the  coarser  where  they 
could  meet,  as  on  a  bridge  above  the  torrent  separating 
them,  gaily  for  interchange  of  the  best  of  either,  unfired 
and  untempted  by  fire,  yet  with  all  the  elements  which 
make  fire  burn  to  animate  their  hearts. 

"Lucky  the  man  who  wins  for  himself  that  life-long 
cordial ! "  Mr.  Beamish  said  to  Duchess  Susan. 

She  had  small  comprehension  of  metaphorical  phrases,  but 


THE  TALE  OF   CHLOE  39 

she  was  quick  at  reading  faces ;  and  comparing  the  enthu- 
siasm on  the  face  of  the  beau  with  Caseldy's  look  of 
troubled  wonderment  and  regret,  she  pitied  the  lover  con- 
scious of  not  having  the  larger  share  of  his  mistress's 
affections.  When  presently  he  looked  at  her,  the  tender- 
hearted woman  could  have  cried  for  very  compassion,  so 
sensible  did  he  show  himself  of  Chloe's  preference  of  the 
other. 


CHAPTER  VI 


That  evening  Duchess  Susan  played  at  the  Pharaoh 
table  and  lost  eight  hundred  pounds,  through  desperation 
at  the  loss  of  twenty.  After  encouraging  her  to  proceed 
to  this  extremity,  Caseldy  checked  her.  He  was  conduct- 
ing her  out  of  the  Play  room  when  a  couple  of  young 
squires  of  the  Shepster  order,  and  primed  with  wine, 
intercepted  her  to  present  their  condolences,  which  they 
performed  with  exaggerated  gestures,  intended  for  broad 
mimicry  of  the  courtliness  imported  from  the  Continent, 
and  a  very  dulcet  harping  on  the  popular  variations  of  her 
Christian  name,  not  forgetting  her  singular  title,  "my 
lovely,  lovely  Dewlap ! " 

She  was  excited  and  stunned  by  her  immediate  experi- 
ence in  the  transfer  of  money,  and  she  said,  "  I  'm  sure  I 
don't  know  what  you  want." 

"  Yes  ! "  cried  they,  striking  their  bosoms  as  guitars,  and 
attempting  the  posture  of  the  thrummer  on  the  instru- 
ment; "she  knows.  She  does  know.  Handsome  Susie 
knows  what  we  want."  And  one  ejaculated,  mellifluously, 
"  Oh  !  "  and  the  other  "  Ah  !  "  in  flagrant  derision  of  the 
foreign  ways  they  produced  in  boorish  burlesque  —  a  self- 
consolatory  and  a  common  trick  of  the  boor. 

Caseldy  was  behind.  He  pushed  forward  and  bowed  to 
them.     "  Sirs,  will  you  mention  to  me  what  you  want  ?  " 

He  said  it  with  a  look  that  meant  steel.  It  cooled  them 
sufficiently  to  let  him  place  the  duchess  under  the  protec- 
torship of  Mr.  Beamish,  then  entering  from  another  room 


40  THE   TALE   OF   CHLOE 

with  Chloe ;  whereupon  the  pair  of  rustic  bucks  retired  to 
reinvigorate  their  valiant  blood. 

Mr.  Beamish  had  seen  that  there  was  cause  for  gratitude 
to  Caseldy,  to  whom  he  said,  "She  has  lost?"  and  he 
seemed  satisfied  on  hearing  the  amount  of  the  loss,  and 
commissioned  Caseldy  to  escort  the  ladies  to  their  lodgings 
at  once,  observing,  "  Adieu,  Count !  " 

"  You  will  find  my  foreign  title  of  use  to  you  here,  after 
a  bout  or  two,"  was  the  reply. 

"  No  bouts,  if  possibly  to  be  avoided ;  though  I  perceive 
how  the  flavour  of  your  countship  may  spread  a  wholesome 
alarm  among  our  rurals,  who  will  readily  have  at  you  with 
fists,  but  relish  not  the  tricky  cold  weapon." 

Mr.  Beamish  haughtily  bowed  the  duchess  away. 

Caseldy  seized  the  opportunity  while  handing  her  into 
her  sedan  to  say,  "  We  will  try  the  fortune-teller  for  a 
lucky  day  to  have  our  revenge." 

She  answered:  "Oh,  don't  talk  to  me  about  playing 
again  ever ;  I  'm  nigh  on  a  clean  pocket,  and  never  knew 
such  a  sinful  place  as  this.  I  feel  I've  tumbled  into  a 
ditch.  And  there 's  Mr.  Beamish,  all  top  when  he  bows  to 
me.     You're  keeping  Chloe  waiting,  sir." 

"  Where  was  she  while  we  were  at  the  table  ?  " 

"  Sure  she  was  with  Mr.  Beamish." 

"  Ah !  "  he  groaned. 

"  The  poor  soul  is  in  despair  over  her  losses  to-night,"  he 
turned  from  the  boxed-up  duchess  to  remark  to  Chloe. 
"  Give  her  a  comfortable  cry  and  a  few  moral  maxims." 

"  I  will,"  she  said.     "You  love  me,  Caseldy  ?  " 

"  Love  you  ?  I  ?  Your  own  ?  What  assurance  would 
you  have  ?  " 

"  None,  dear  friend." 

Here  was  a  woman  easily  deceived. 

In  the  hearts  of  certain  men,  owing  to  an  intellectual 
contempt  of  easy  dupes,  compunction  in  deceiving  is  dimin- 
ished by  the  lightness  of  their  task;  and  that  soft  confi- 
dence which  will  often,  if  but  passingly,  bid  betrayers 
reconsider  the  charms  of  the  fair  soul  they  are  abandoning, 
commends  these  armom-ed  knights  to  pursue  with  redoubled 
earnest  the  fruitful  ways  of  treachery.  Their  feelings  are 
warm  for  their  prey,  moreover  j  and  choosing  to  judge  their 


THE  TALE  OF   CHLOE  41 

victim  by  the  present  warmth  of  their  feelings,  they  can  at 
will  be  hurt,  even  to  being  scandalized,  by  a  coldness  that 
does  not  waken  one  suspicion  of  them.  Jealousy  would 
have  a  chance  of  arresting,  for  it  is  not  impossible  to  tease 
them  back  to  avowed  allegiance;  but  sheer  indifference  also 
has  a  stronger  hold  on  them  than  a  dull,  blind  trustfulness. 
They  hate  the  burden  it  imposes ;  the  blind  aspect  is  only 
touching  enough  to  remind  them  of  the  burden,  and  they 
hate  it  for  that,  and  for  the  enormous  presumption  of  the 
belief  that  they  are  everlastingly  bound  to  such  an  imbecile. 
She  walks  about  with  her  eyes  shut,  expecting  not  to  stum- 
ble, and  when  she  does,  am  I  to  blame  ?  The  injured  man 
asks  it  in  the  course  of  his  reasoning. 

He  recurs  to  his  victim's  merits,  but  only  compassion- 
ately, and  the  compassion  is  chilled  by  the  thought  that  she 
may  in  the  end  start  across  his  path  to  thwart  him.  Thereat 
he  is  drawn  to  think  of  the  prize  she  may  rob  him  of ;  and 
when  one  woman  is  an  obstacle,  the  other  shines  desirable 
as  life  beyond  death  ;  he  must  have  her ;  he  sees  her  in  the 
hue  of  his  desire  for  her,  and  the  obstacle  in  that  of  his 
repulsion.  Cruelty  is  no  more  than  the  man's  effort  to  win 
the  wished  object. 

She  should  not  leave  it  to  his  imagination  to  conceive 
that  in  the  end  the  blind  may  awaken  to  thwart  him. 
Better  for  her  to  cast  him  hence,  or  let  him  know  that  she 
will  do  battle  to  keep  him.  But  the  pride  of  a  love  that 
has  hardened  in  the  faithfulness  of  love  cannot  always 
be  wise  on  trial. 

Caseldy  walked  considerably  in  the  rear  of  the  couple  of 
chairs.  He  saw  on  his  way  what  was  coming.  His  two 
young  squires  were  posted  at  Duchess  Susan's  door  when 
she  arrived,  and  he  received  a  blow  from  one  of  them  in 
clearing  a  way  for  her.  She  plucked  at  his  hand.  "  Have 
they  hurt  you  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Think  of  me  to-night  thanking  them  and  heaven  for 
this,  my  darling,"  he  replied,  with  a  pressure  that  lit  the 
flying  moment  to  kindle  the  after  hours. 

Chloe  had  taken  help  of  one  of  her  bearers  to  jump  out. 
She  stretched  a  finger  at  the  unruly  intruders,  crying 
sternly,  "  There  is  blood  on  you  —  come  not  nigh  me  !  " 
The  loftiest  harangue  would  not  have  been  so  cunning  to 


42  THE  TALE   OF   CHLOE 

touch  their  wits.  They  stared  at  one  another  in  the  cleai 
moonlight.  Which  of  them  had  blood  on  him  ?  As  they 
had  not  been  for  blood,  but  for  rough  fun,  and  something  to 
boast  of  next  day,  they  gesticulated  according  to  the  first 
instructions  of  the  dancing  master,  by  way  of  gallantry, 
and  were  out  of  Caseldy's  path  when  he  placed  himself  at 
his  liege  lady's  service.  "Take  no  notice  of  them,  dear," 
she  said. 

"  No,  no,"  said  he ;  and  "  What  is  it  ?  "  and  his  hoarse 
accent  and  shaking  clasp  of  her  arm  sickened  her  to  the 
sensation  of  approaching  death. 

Upstairs  Duchess  Susan  made  a  show  of  embracing  her. 
Both  were  trembling.  The  duchess  ascribed  her  condition 
to  those  dreadful  men.  "  What  make's  them  be  at  me  so  ?  " 
she  said. 

And  Chloe  said,  "  Because  you  are  beautiful." 

" Am  I  ? " 

"  You  are." 

"I  am?" 

"  Very  beautiful ;  young  and  beautiful ;  beautiful  in  the 
bud.     You  will  learn  to  excuse  them,  madam." 

"  But,  Chloe "     The  duchess  shut  her  mouth.     Out 

of  a  languid  reverie,  she  sighed :  "  I  suppose  I  must  be ! 
My  duke  —  oh,  don't  talk  of  him.  Dear  man  !  he's  in  bed 
and  fast  asleep  long  before  this.  I  wonder  how  he  came  to 
let  me  come  here.  I  did  bother  him,  I  know.  Am  I  very, 
very  beautiful,  Chloe,  so  that  men  can't  help  themselves  ?  " 

"  Very,  madam." 

"  There,  good-night.  I  want  to  be  in  bed,  and  I  can't 
kiss  you  because  you  keep  calling  me  madam,  and  freeze 
me  to  icicles  ;  but  I  do  love  you,  Chloe." 

"  I  am  sure  you  do." 

"  I  'in  quite  certain  I  do.  I  know  I  never  mean  harm. 
But  how  are  we  women  expected  to  behave,  then?  Oh, 
I  'm  unhappy,  I  am." 

"  You  must  abstain  from  playing." 

"It's  that!  I've  lost  my  money  —  I  forgot.  And  I 
shall  have  to  confess  it  to  my  duke,  though  he  warned  me. 
Old  men  hold  their  fingers  up  —  so  !  One  finger  :  and  you 
never  forget  the  sight  of  it,  never.  It's  a  round  finger,  like 
the  handle  of  a  jug,  and  won't  point  at  you  when  they're 


THE  TALE  OF   CHLOE  43 

lecturing,  and  the  skin 's  like  an  old  coat  on  gaffer's  shoul- 
ders —  or,  Chloe !  just  like,  when  you  look  at  the  nail,  a 
rumpled  counterpane  up  to  the  face  of  a  corpse.  I  declare, 
it's  just  like  !  I  feel  as  if  I  didn't  a  bit  mind  talking  of 
corpses  to-nigbt.  And  my  money's  gone,  and  I  don't  much 
mind.     I  'm  a  wild  girl  again,  handsomer  than  when  that 

he  is  a  dear,  kind,  good  old  nobleman,  with  his  funny 

old  finger :  '  Susan  !  Susan ! '  I  'm  no  worse  than  others. 
Everybody  plays  here ;  everybody  superior.  Why,  you 
have  played,  Chloe." 

"  Never  ! " 

"  I  've  heard  you  say  you  played  once,  and  a  bigger  stake 
it  was,  you  said,  than  anybody  ever  did  play." 

"  Not  money." 

"What  then?" 

«  My  life." 

"Goodness  —  yes!  I  understand.  I  understand  every- 
thing to-night  —  men  too.  So  you  did  !  —  They  're  not  so 
shamefully  wicked,  Chloe.  Because,  I  can't  see  the  wrong 
of  human  nature  —  if  we  're  discreet,  I  mean.  Now  and 
then  a  country  dance  and  a  game,  and  home  to  bed  and 
dreams.  There's  no  harm  in  that,  I  vow. — And  that's 
why  you  stayed  at  this  place.     You  like  it,  Chloe  ?  " 

"  I  am  used  to  it." 

"  But  when  you  're  married  to  Count  Caseldy  you  '11  go  ?  " 

"  Yes,  then." 

She  uttered  it  so  joylessly  that  Duchess  Susan  added, 
with  intense  affectionateness,  "  You  're  not  obliged  to  marry 
him,  dear  Chloe." 

"  Nor  he  me,  madam." 

The  duchess  caught  at  her  impulsively  to  kiss  her,  and 
eaid  she  would  undress  herself,  as  she  wished  to  be  alone. 

From  that  night  she  was  a  creature  inflamed. 


44  THE  TALE  OF   CHLOE 


CHAPTER  VII 


The  total  disappearance  of  the  pair  of  heroes  who  had 
been  the  latest  in  the  conspiracy  to  vex  his  delicate  charge, 
gave  Mr.  Beamish  a  high  opinion  of  Caseldy  as  an  assistant 
in  such  an  office  as  he  held.  They  had  gone,  and  nothing 
more  was  heard  of  them.  Caseldy  confined  his  observations 
on  the  subject  to  the  remark,  that  he  had  employed  the 
best  means  to  be  rid  of  that  kind  of  worthies ;  and  whether 
their  souls  had  fled,  or  only  their  bodies,  was  unknown. 
But  the  duchess  had  quiet  promenades  with  Caseldy  to 
guard  her,  while  Mr.  Beamish  counted  the  remaining  days 
of  her  visit  with  the  impatience  of  a  man  having  cause 
to  cast  eye  on  a  clock.  For  Duchess  Susan  was  not  very 
manageable  now ;  she  had  fits  of  insurgency,  and  plainly 
said  that  her  time  was  short,  and  she  meant  to  do  as  she 
liked,  go  where  she  liked,  play  when  she  liked,  and  be  an 
independent  woman  —  if  she  was  so  soon  to  be  taken  away 
and  boxed  in  a  castle  that  was  only  a  bigger  sedan. 

Caseldy  protested  he  was  as  helpless  as  the  beau.  He 
described  the  annoyance  of  his  incessant  running  about  at 
her  heels  in  all  directions  amusingly,  and  suggested  that 
she  must  be  beating  the  district  to  recover  her  "strange 
cavalier,"  of  whom,  or  of  one  that  had  ridden  beside  her 
carriage  half  a  day  on  her  journey  to  the  Wells,  he  said  she 
had  dropped  a  sort  of  hint.  He  complained  of  the  impossi- 
bility of  his  getting  an  hour  in  privacy  with  his  Chloe. 

"And  I,  accustomed  to  consult  with  her,  see  too  little  of 
her,"  said  Mr.  Beamish.  "  I  shall  presently  be  seeing 
nothing,  and  already  I  am  sensible  of  my  loss." 

He  represented  his  case  to  Duchess  Susan :  —  that  she 
was  for  ever  driving  out  long  distances  and  taking  Chloe 
from  him,  when  his  occupation  precluded  his  accompanying 
them ;  and  as  Chloe  soon  was  to  be  lost  to  him  for  good, 
he  deeply  felt  her  absence. 

The  duchess  flung  him  enigmatical  rejoinders  :  "  You 
can  change  all  that,  Mr.  Beamish,  if  you  like,  and  you 
know  you  can.  Oh,  yes,  you  can.  But  you  like  being  a 
butterfly,  and  when  you  've  made  ladies  pale  you  're  happy : 


THE  TALE  OF   CHLOE  45 

and  there  they  're  to  stick  and  wither  for  you.  Never !  — 
I  've  that  pride.  I  may  be  worried,  but  I  '11  never  sink  to 
green  and  melancholy  for  a  man." 

She  bridled  at  herself  in  a  mirror,  wherein  not  a  sign  of 
paleness  was  reflected. 

Mr.  Beamish  meditated,  and  he  thought  it  prudent  to 
speak  to  Caseldy  manfully  of  her  childish  suspicions,  lest 
she  should  perchance  in  like  manner  perturb  the  lover's  mind. 

"  Oh,  make  your  mind  easy,  my  dear  sir,  as  far  as  I  am 
concerned,"  said  Caseldy.  "  But,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I 
think  I  can  interpret  her  creamy  ladyship's  innuendos  a 
little  differently  and  quite  as  clearly.  For  my  part,  I  pre- 
fer the  pale  to  the  blowsy,  and  I  stake  my  right  hand  on 
Chloe's  fidelity.  Whatever  harm  I  may  have  the  senseless 
cruelty  —  misfortune,  I  may  rather  call  it  —  to  do  that 
heavenly-minded  woman  in  our  days  to  come,  none  shall 
say  of  me  that  I  was  ever  for  an  instant  guilty  of  the  base- 
ness of  doubting  her  purity  and  constancy.  And,  sir,  I  will 
add  that  I  could  perfectly  rely  also  on  your  honour." 

Mr.  Beamish  bowed.  "  You  do  but  do  me  justice.  But, 
say,  what  interpretation  ?  " 

"  She  began  by  fearing  you,"  said  Caseldy,  creating  a 
stare  that  was  followed  by  a  frown.  "  She  fancies  you 
neglect  her.  Perhaps  she  has  a  woman's  suspicion  that 
you  do  it  to  try  her." 

Mr.  Beamish  frenetically  cited  his  many  occupations. 
"How  can  I  be  ever  dancing  attendance  on  her?"  Then 
he  said,  "  Pooh,"  and  tenderly  fingered  the  ruffles  of  his 
wrist.  "  Tush,  tush,"  said  he,  "  no,  no :  though  if  it  came 
to  a  struggle  between  us,  I  might  in  the  interests  of  my 
old  friend,  her  lord,  whom  I  have  reasons  for  esteeming, 
interpose  an  influence  that  would  make  the  exercise  of 
my  authority  agreeable.  Hitherto  I  have  seen  no  actual 
need  of  it,  and  I  watch  keenly.  Her  eye  has  been  on  Colo- 
nel Poltermore  once  or  twice  —  his  on  her.  The  woman  is  a 
rose  in  June,  sir,  and  I  forgive  the  whole  world  for  looking 
—  and   for   longing   too.      But   I   have   observed   nothing 


serious." 


"  He  is  of  our  party  to  the  beacon-head  to-morrow,"  said 
Caseldy.  "  She  insisted  that  she  would  have  him  ;  and  at 
least  it  will  grant  me  furlough  for  an  hour." 


46  THE   TALE  OF   CHLOE 

"Do  me  the  service  to  report  to  me,"  said  Mr.  Beamish. 

In  this  fashion  he  engaged  Caseldy  to  supply  him  with 
inventions,  and  prepared  himself  to  swallow  them.  It  was 
Poltermore  and  Poltermore,  the  Colonel  here,  the  Colonel 
there,  until  the  chase  grew  so  hot  that  Mr.  Beamish  could 
no  longer  listen  to  young  Mr.  Camwell's  fatiguing  drone 
upon  his  one  theme  of  the  double-dealing  of  Chloe's  be- 
trothed. He  became  of  her  way  of  thinking,  and  treated 
the  young  gentleman  almost  as  coldly  as  she.  In  time  he 
was  ready  to  guess  of  his  own  acuteness  that  the  "  strange 
cavalier "  could  have  been  no  other  than  Colonel  Polter- 
more. When  Caseldy  hinted  it,  Mr.  Beamish  said,  "  I 
have  marked  him."  He  added,  in  highly  self-satisfied  style, 
"  With  all  your  foreign  training,  my  friend,  you  will  learn 
that  we  English  are  not  so  far  behind  you  in  the  art  of 
unravelling  an  intrigue  in  the  dark."  To  which  Caseldy 
replied,  that  the  Continental  world  had  little  to  teach  Mr. 
Beamish. 

Poor  Colonel  Poltermore,  as  he  came  to  be  called,  was 
clearly  a  victim  of  the  sudden  affability  of  Duchess  Susan. 
The  transformation  of  a  stiff  military  officer  into  a  nimble 
Puck,  a  runner  of  errands  and  a  sprightly  attendant,  could 
not  pass  without  notice-.  The  first  effect  of  her  discrimi- 
nating condescension  on  this  unfortunate  gentleman  was  to 
make  him  the  champion  of  her  claims  to  breeding.  She 
had  it  by  nature,  she  was  Nature's  great  lady,  he  would 
protest  to  the  noble  dames  of  the  circle  he  moved  in  ;  and 
they  admitted  that  she  was  different  in  every  way  from  a 
bourgeoise  elevated  by  marriage  to  lofty  rank  :  she  was 
not  vulgar.  But  they  remained  doubtful  of  the  perfect 
simplicity  of  a  young  woman  who  worked  such  changes  in 
men  as  to  render  one  of  the  famous  conquerors  of  the 
day  her  agitated  humble  servant.  By  rapid  degrees  the 
Colonel  had  fallen  to  that.  When  not  by  her  side,  he  was 
ever  marching  with  sharp  strides,  hurrying  through  rooms 
and  down  alleys  and  groves  until  he  had  discovered  and 
attached  himself  to  her  skirts.  And,  curiously,  the  object 
of  his  jealousy  was  the  devoted  Alonzo  !  Mr.  Beamish 
laughed  when  he  heard  of  it.  The  lady's  excitement  and 
giddy  mien,  however,  accused  Poltermore  of  a  stage  of 
success  requiring  to  be  combated  immediately.     There  was 


THE  TALE   OF  CHLOE  47 

mention  of  Duchess  Susan's  mighty  wish  to  pay  a  visit  to 
the  popular  fortune-teller  of  the  hut  on  the  heath,  and  Mr. 
Beamish  put  his  veto  on  the  expedition.  She  had  obeyed 
him  by  abstaining  from  play  of  late,  so  he  fully  expected 
that  his  interdict  would  be  obeyed ;  and  besides  the 
fortune-teller  was  a  rogue  of  a  sham  astrologer  known  to 
have  foretold  to  certain  tender  ladies  things  they  were  only 
too  desirous  to  imagine  predestined  by  an  extraordinary 
indication  of  the  course  of  planets  through  the  zodiac,  thus 
causing  them  to  sin  by  the  example  of  celestial  conjunctions 
—  a  piece  of  wanton  impiety.  The  beau  took  high  ground 
in  his  objections  to  the  adventure.  Nevertheless,  Duchess 
Susan  did  go.  She  drove  to  the  heath  at  an  early  hour  of 
the  morning,  attended  by  Chloe,  Colonel  Poltermore,  and 
Caseldy.  They  subsequently  breakfasted  at  an  inn  where 
gipsy  repasts  were  occasionally  served  to  the  fashion,  and 
they  were  back  at  the  Wells  as  soon  as  the  world  was 
abroad.  Their  surprise  then  was  prodigious  when  Mr. 
Beamish,  accosting  them  in  full  assembly,  inquired  whether 
they  were  satisfied  with  the  report  of  their  fortunes,  and  yet 
more  when  he  positively  proved  himself  acquainted  with 
the  fortunes  which  had  been  recounted  to  each  of  them 
in  privacy. 

"You,  Colonel  Poltermore,  are  to  be  in  luck's  way  up  to 
the  tenth  milestone,  —  where  your  chariot  will  overset  and 
you  will  be  lamed  for  life." 

"Not  quite  so  bad,"  said  the  Colonel  cheerfully,  he 
having  been  informed  of  much  better. 

"And  you,  Count  Caseldy,  are  to  have  it  all  your  own 
way  with  good  luck,  after  committing  a  deed  of  slaughter, 
with  the  solitary  penalty  of  undergoing  a  visit  every  night 
from  the  corpse." 

"Ghost,"  Caseldy  smilingly  corrected  him. 

"  And  Chloe  would  not  have  her  fortune  told,  because 
she  knew  it ! "  Mr.  Beamish  cast  a  paternal  glance 
at  her.  "And  you,  madam,"  he  bent  his  brows  on 
the  duchess,  "received  the  communication  that  'All  for 
Love '  will  sink  you  as  it  raised  you,  put  you  down 
as  it  took  you  up,  furnish  the  feast  to  the  raven 
gentleman  which  belongs  of  right  to  the  golden  eagle — ■ 
ha?" 


48  THE  TALE   OF   CHLOE 

"  Nothing  of  the  sort !  And  I  don't  believe  in  any  of 
their  stories,"  cried  the  duchess,  with  a  burning  face. 

"  You  deny  it,  madam  ?  " 

"  I  do.  There  was  never  a  word  of  a  raven  or  an  eagle, 
that  I  '11  swear,  now." 

"  You  deny  that  there  was  ever  a  word  of  '  All  for 
Love. '  ?     Speak,  madam." 

"Their  conjuror's  rigmarole!"  she  murmured,  huffing. 
"  As  if  I  listened  to  their  nonsense  !  " 

"  Does  the  Duchess  of  Dewlap  dare  to  give  me  the  lie  ?  " 
said  Mr.  Beamish. 

"  That 's  not  my  title,  and  you  know  it,"  she  retorted. 

"  What 's  this  ?  "  the  angry  beau  sang  out.  "  What  stuff 
is  this  you  wear  ?  "  He  towered  and  laid  hand  on  a  border 
of  lace  of  her  morning  dress,  tore  it  furiously  and  swung  a 
length  of  it  round  him  :  and  while  the  duchess  panted  and 
trembled  at  an  outrage  that  won  for  her  the  sympathy  of 
every  lady  present  as  well  as  the  championship  of  the  gentle- 
men, he  tossed  the  lace  to  the  floor  and  trampled  on  it,  mak- 
ing his  big  voice  intelligible  over  the  uproar:  "Hear  what 
she  does !  'T  is  a  felony  !  She  wears  the  stuff  with  Betty 
Worcester's  yellow  starch  on  it  for  mock  antique  !  And 
let  who  else  wears  it  strip  it  off  before  the  town  shall  say 
we  are  disgraced  —  when  I  tell  you  that  Betty  Worcester 
was  hanged  at  Tyburn  yesterday  morning  for  murder  ! " 

There  were  shrieks. 

Hardly  had  he  finished  speaking  before  the  assembly 
began  to  melt ;  he  stood  in  the  centre  like  a  pole  unwinding 
streamers,  amid  a  confusion  of  hurrying  dresses,  the  sound 
and  whirl  and  drift  whereof  was  as  that  of  the  autumnal 
strewn  leaves  on  a  wind  rising  in  November.  The  troops 
of  ladies  were  off  to  bereave  themselves  of  their  fashionable 
imitation  old  lace  adornment,  which  denounced  them  in 
some  sort  abettors  and  associates  of  the  sanguinary  loathed 
wretch,  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Worcester,  their  benefactress  of  the 
previous  day,  now  hanged  and  dangling  on  the  gallows- 
tree. 

Those  ladies  who  wore  not  imitation  lace  or  any  lace  in 
the  morning,  were  scarcely  displeased  with  the  beau  for 
his  exposure  of  them  that  did.  The  gentlemen  were  con- 
founded by  his  exhibition  of   audacious  power.     The  two 


THE   TALE  OP  CHLOE  49 

gentlemen  nighest  upon  violently  resenting  his  brutality  to 
Duchess  Susan,  led  her  from  the  room  in  company  with 
Chloe. 

"The    woman    shall   fear  me  to  good    purpose,"   Mr. 
Beamish  said  to  himself. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


Mr.  Camwell  was  in  the  ante-room  as  Chloe  passed  out 
behind  the  two  incensed  supporters  of  Duchess  Susan. 

"I  shall  be  by  the  fir-trees  on  the  Mount  at  eight  this 
evening,"  she  said. 

"  I  will  be  there,"  he  replied. 

"Drive  Mr.  Beamish  into  the  country,  that  these  gentle- 
men may  have  time  to  cool." 

He  promised  her  it  should  be  done. 

Close  on  the  hour  of  her  appointment,  he  stood  under  the 
fir-trees,  admiring  the  sunset  along  the  western  line  of  hills, 
and  when  Chloe  joined  him  he  spoke  of  the  beauty  of  the 
scene. 

"  Though  nothing  seems  more  eloquently  to  say  farewell," 
he  added,  with  a  sinking  voice. 

"We  could  say  it  now,  and  be  friends,"  she  answered. 

"  Later  than  now,  you  think  it  unlikely  that  you  could 
forgive  me,  Chloe." 

"  In  truth,  sir,  you  are  making  it  hard  for  me." 

"  I  have  stayed  here  to  keep  watch ;  for  no  pleasure  of 
my  own,"  said  he. 

"  Mr.  Beamish  is  an  excellent  protector  of  the  duchess." 

"Excellent;  and  he  is  cleverly  taught  to  suppose  she 
fears  him  greatly ;  and  when  she  offends  him,  he  makes 
a  display  of  his  Jupiter's  awfulness,  with  the  effect  on  a 
woman  of  natural  spirit  which  you  have  seen,  and  others 
had  foreseen,  that  she  is  exasperated  and  grows  reckless. 
Tie  another  knot  in  your  string,  Chloe." 

She  looked  away,  saying,  "Were  you  not  the  cause? 
You  were  in  collusion  with  that  charlatan  of  the  heath, 


50  THE  TALE   OF   CHLOE 

who  told  them  their  fortunes  this  morning.  I  see  far,  both 
in  the  dark  and  in  the  light." 

"But  not  through  a  curtain.     I  was  present." 

"  Hateful,  hateful  business  of  the  spy  !  You  have  worked 
a  great  mischief,  Mr.  Camwell.  And  how  can  you  reconcile 
it  to  your  conscience  that  you  should  play  so  base  a  part  ?  " 

"I  have  but  performed  my  duty,  dear  madam." 

"  You  pretend  that  it  is  your  devotion  to  me !  I  might 
be  flattered  if  I  saw  not  so  abject  a  figure  in  my  service. 
Now  have  I  but  four  days  of  my  month  of  happiness 
remaining,  and  my  request  to  you  is,  leave  me  to  enjoy 
them.  I  beseech  you  to  go.  Very  humbly,  most  earnestly, 
I  beg  your  departure.  Grant  it  to  me,  and  do  not  stay  to 
poison  my  last  days  here.  Leave  us  to-morrow.  I  will 
admit  your  good  intentions.  I  give  you  my  hand  in  grati- 
tude.    Adieu,  Mr.  Camwell." 

He  took  her  hand.  "  Adieu.  I  foresee  an  early  separa- 
tion, and  this  dear  hand  is  mine  while  I  have  it  in  mine. 
Adieu.  It  is  a  word  to  be  repeated  at  a  parting  like  ours. 
We  do  not  blow  out  our  light  with  one  breath ;  we  let  it 
fade  gradually,  like  yonder  sunset." 

"  Speak  so,"  said  she. 

"  Ah,  Chloe,  to  give  one's  life !  And  it  is  your  happiness 
I  have  sought  more  than  your  favour." 

"I  believe  it;  but  I  have  not  liked  the  means.  You 
leave  us  to-morrow  ?  " 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  to-morrow  is  the  term." 

Her  face  clouded.  "That  tells  me  a  very  uncertain 
promise." 

"  You  looked  forth  to  a  month  of  happiness  —  meaning 
a  month  of  delusion.  The  delusion  expires  to-night.  You 
will  awaken  to  see  your  end  of  it  in  the  morning.  You 
have  never  looked  beyond  the  month  since  the  day  of  his 
arrival." 

"  Let  him  not  be  named,  I  supplicate  you." 

"  Then  you  consent  that  another  shall  be  sacrificed  for 
you  to  enjoy  your  state  of  deception  an  hour  longer  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  deceived,  sir.  I  wish  for  peace,  and  crave  it, 
and  that  is  all  I  would  have." 

"  And  you  make  her  your  peace-offering,  whom  you  have 
engaged  to  serve!     Too  surely  your  eyes  have  been  open 


THE  TALE   OF   CHLOE  51 

as  well  as  mine.  Knot  by  knot  —  I  have  watched  you  — 
where  is  it  ?  —  you  have  marked  the  points  in  that  silken 
string  where  the  confirmation  of  a  just  suspicion  was  too 
strong  for  you." 

"  I  did  it,  and  still  I  continued  merry  ?  "  She  subsided 
from  her  scornfulness  on  an  involuntary  "  Ah  !  "  that  was 
a  shudder. 

"  You  acted  Light  Heart,  madam,  and  too  well  to  hood- 
wink me.  Meanwhile  you  allowed  that  mischief  to  pro- 
ceed, rather  than  have  your  crazy  lullaby  disturbed." 

"  Indeed,  Mr.  Cam  well,  you  presume." 

"  The  time,  and  my  knowledge  of  what  it  is  fraught 
with,  demand  it  and  excuse  it.  You  and  I,  my  dear  and 
one  only  love  on  earth,  stand  outside  of  ordinary  rules. 
We  are  between  life  and  death." 

"  We  are  so  always." 

"  Listen  further  to  the  preacher :  We  have  them  close  on 
us,  with  the  question,  Which  it  shall  be  to-morrow.  You 
are  for  sleeping  on,  but  I  say  no  ;  nor  shall  that  iniquity 
of  double  treachery  be  committed  because  of  your  desire  to 
be  rocked  in  a  cradle.  Hear  me  out.  The  drug  }tou  have 
swallowed  to  cheat  yourself  will  not  bear  the  shock  await- 
ing you  to-morrow  with  the  first  light.     Hear  these  birds! 

When  next  they  sing,  you  will  be  broad  awake,  and of 

me,  and  the  worship  and  service  I  would  have  dedicated  to 
you,  I  do  not  ...  it  is  a  spectral  sunset  of  a  day  that  was 
never  to  be  !  —  awake,  and  looking  on  what  ?  Back  from 
a  monstrous  villany  to  the  forlorn  wretch  who  winked  at 
it  with  knots  in  a  string.  Count  them  then,  and  where 
will  be  your  answer  to  heaven  ?  I  begged  it  of  you,  to 
save  you  from  those  blows  of  remorse  ;  yes,  terrible  !  " 

"  Oh,  no  !  " 

"  Terrible,  I  say !  " 

"  You  are  mistaken,  Mr.  Camwell.  It  is  my  soother.  I 
tell  my  beads  on  it." 

"  See  how  a  persistent  residence  in  this  place  has  made 
a  Pagan  of  the  purest  soul  among  us !  Had  you  .  .  .  but 
that  day  was  not  to  lighten  me  !  More  adorable  in  your 
errors  that  you  are  than  others  by  their  virtues,  you  have 
sinned  through  excess  of  the  qualities  men  prize.  Oh,  you 
have  a  boundless  generosity,  unhappily  enwound  with  a 


52  THE  TALE  OF  CHLOE 

pride  as  great.  There  is  your  fault,  that  is  the  cause  of 
your  misery.  Too  generous !  too  proud !  You  have  trusted, 
and  you  will  not  cease  to  trust ;  you  have  vowed  yourself 
to  love,  never  to  remonstrate,  never  to  seem  to  doubt;  it 
is  too  much  your  religion,  rare  verily.  But  bethink  you 
of  that  inexperienced  and  most  silly  good  creature  who  is 
on  the  rapids  to  her  destruction.  Is  she  not  —  you  will 
cry  it  aloud  to-morrow  —  your  victim  ?  You  hear  it  within 
you  now." 

"  Friend,  my  dear,  true  friend,"  Chloe  said  in  her  deeper 
voice  of  melody,  "  set  your  mind  at  ease  about  to-morrow 
and  her.  Her  safety  is  assured.  I  stake  my  life  on  it. 
She  shall  not  be  a  victim.  At  the  worst  she  will  but  have 
learnt  a  lesson.  So,  then,  adieu!  The  West  hangs  like 
a  garland  of  un watered  flowers,  neglected  by  the  mistress 
they  adorned.  Remember  the  scene,  and  that  here  we 
parted,  and  that  Chloe  wished  you  the  happiness  it  was 
out  of  her  power  to  bestow,  because  she  was  of  another 
world,  with  her  history  written  out  to  the  last  red  streak 
before  ever  you  knew  her.  Adieu ;  this  time  adieu  for 
good !  " 

Mr.  Camwell  stood  in  her  path.  "Blind  eyes,  if  you 
like,"  he  said,  "  but  you  shall  not  hear  blind  language. 
I  forfeit  the  poor  consideration  for  me  that  I  have  treas- 
ured ;  hate  me ;  better  hated  by  you  than  shun  my  duty  ! 
Your  duchess  is  away  at  the  first  dawn  this  next  morn- 
ing; it  has  come  to  that.  I  speak  with  full  knowledge. 
Question  her." 

Chloe  threw  a  faltering  scorn  of  him  into  her  voice,  as 
much  as  her  heart's  sharp  throbs  would  allow.  "  I  question 
you,  sir,  how  you  came  to  this  full  knowledge  you  boast  of  ?  " 

"  I  have  it ;  let  that  suffice.  Nay,  I  will  be  particular  ; 
his  coach  is  ordered  for  the  time  I  name  to  you  ;  her  mai(J 
is  already  at  a  station  on  the  road  of  the  flight." 

"  You  have  their  servants  in  your  pay  ?  " 

"For  the  mine — the  countermine.  We  must  grub  dirt 
to  match  deceivers.  You,  madam,  have  chosen  to  be  deli- 
cate to  excess,  and  have  thrown  it  upon  me  to  be  gross,  and 
if  you  please,  abominable,  in  my  means  of  defending  you. 
It  is  not  too  late  for  you  to  save  the  lady,  nor  too  late  to 
bring  him  to  the  sense  of  honour." 


THE  TALE  OF  CHLOE  53 

"I  cannot  think  Colonel  Poltermore  so  dishonourable." 

"Poor  Colonel  Poltermore!  the  office  he  is  made  to  fill 
is  an  old  one.     Are  you  not  ashamed,  Chloe  ?  " 

"  I  have  listened  too  long,"  she  replied. 

"  Then,  if  it  is  your  pleasure,  depart." 

He  made  way  for  her.  She  passed  him.  Taking  two 
hurried  steps  in  the  gloom  of  the  twilight,  she  stopped, 
held  at  her  heart,  and  painfully  turning  to  him,  threw  her 
arms  out,  and  let  herself  be  seized  and  kissed. 

On  his  asking  pardon  of  her,  which  his  long  habit  of 
respect  forced  him  to  do  in  the  thick  of  rapture  and  repeti- 
tions, she  said,  "  You  rob  no  one." 

"Oh,"  he  cried,  "there  is  a  reward,  then,  for  faithful 
love.  But  am  I  the  man  I  was  a  miuute  back  ?  I  have 
you ;  I  embrace  you ;  and  I  doubt  that  I  am  I.  Or  is  it 
Chloe's  ghost?" 

"  She  has  died  and  visits  you." 

"  And  will  again  ?  " 

Chloe  could  not  speak  for  languor. 

The  intensity  of  the  happiness  she  gave  by  resting  mutely 
where  she  was,  charmed  her  senses.  But  so  long  had  the 
frost  been  on  them  that  their  awakening  to  warmth  was 
haunted  by  speculations  on  the  sweet  taste  of  this  reward 
of  faithfulness  to  him,  and  the  strange  taste  of  her  own 
unfaithfulness  to  her.  And  reflecting  on  the  cold  act  of 
speculation  while  strong  arm  and  glowing  mouth  were 
pressing  her,  she  thought  her  senses  might  really  be  dead, 
and  she  a  ghost  visiting  the  good  youth  for  his  comfort. 
So  feel  ghosts,  she  thought,  and  what  we  call  happiness  in 
love  is  a  match  between  ecstasy  and  compliance.  Another 
thought  flew  through  her  like  a  mortal  shot:  "Not  so 
with  those  two  !  with  them  it  will  be  ecstasy  meeting 
ecstasy  ;  they  will  take  and  give  happiness  in  equal  por- 
tions." A  pang  of  jealousy  traversed  her  frame.  She 
made  the  shrewdness  of  it  help  to  nerve  her  fervour  in 
a  last  strain  of  him  to  her  bosom,  and  gently  releasing  her- 
self, she  said,  "No  one  is  robbed.  And  now,  dear  friend, 
promise  me  that  you  will  not  disturb  Mr.  Beamish." 

"  Chloe,"  said  he,  "  have  you  bribed  me  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  wish'  him  to  be  troubled." 

"  The  duchess,  I  have  told  you " 


54  THE   TALE   OF   CHLOE 

"  I  know.  But  you  have  Chloe's  word  that  she  will 
watch  over  the  duchess  and  die  to  save  her.  It  is  an  oath. 
You  have  heard  of  some  arrangements.  I  say  they  shall 
lead  to  nothing:  it  shall  not  take  place.  Indeed,  my  friend, 
I  am  awake ;  I  see  as  much  as  you  see.  And  those  .  .  . 
after  being  where  I  have  been,  can  you  suppose  I  have  a 
regret  ?  But  she  is  my  dear  and  peculiar  charge,  and  if 
she  runs  a  risk,  trust  to  me  that  there  shall  be  no  catas- 
trophe ;  I  swear  it ;  so,  now,  adieu.  We  sup  in  company 
to-night.  They  will  be  expecting  some  of  Chloe's  verses, 
and  she  must  sing  to  herself  for  a  few  minutes  to  stir  the 
bed  her  songs  take  wing  from  ;  therefore,  we  will  part, 
and  for  her  sake  avoid  her ;  do  not  be  present  at  our  table, 
or  in  the  room,  or  anywhere  there.  Yes,  you  rob  no  one," 
she  said,  in  a  voice  that  curled  through  him  deliciously  by 
wavering ;  "  but  I  think  I  may  blush  at  recollections,  and 
I  would  rather  have  you  absent.  Adieu  !  I  will  not  ask  for 
obedience  from  you  beyond  to-night.     Your  word  ?  " 

He  gave  it  in  a  stupor  of  felicity,  and  she  fled. 


CHAPTER   IX 


Chloe  drew  the  silken  string  from  her  bosom,  as  she 
descended  the  dim  pathway  through  the  furzes,  and  set  her 
fingers  travelling  along  it  for  the  number  of  the  knots.  "  I 
have  no  right  to  be  living,"  she  said.  Seven  was  the  num- 
ber ;  seven  years  she  had  awaited  her  lover's  return ;  she 
counted  her  age  and  completed  it  in  sevens.  Fatalism  had 
sustained  her  during  her  lover's  absence ;  it  had  fast  hold 
of  her  now.  Thereby  had  she  been  enabled  to  say,  "  He 
will  come  ;  "  and  saying,  "He  has  come,"  her  touch  rested 
on  the  first  knot  in  the  string.  She  had  no  power  to  dis- 
place her  fingers,  and  the  cause  of  the  tying  of  the  knot 
stood  across  her  brain  marked  in  dull  red  characters,  legible 
neither  to  her  eye  nor  to  her  understanding,  but  a  reviving 
of  the  hour  that  brought  it  on  her  spirit  with  human  dis- 
tinctness, except  of  the  light  of  day :  she  had  a  sense  of 
having  forfeited  light,  and  of  seeing  perhaps  more  clearly. 


THE   TALE   OF   CHLOE  55 

Everything  assured  her  that  she  saw  more  clearly  than 
others  ;  she  saw  too  when  it  was  good  to  cease  to  live. 

Hers  was  the  unhappy  lot  of  one  gifted  with  poetic 
imagination  to  throb  with  the  woman  supplanting  her,  and 
share  the  fascination  of  the  man  who  deceived.  At  their 
first  meeting,  in  her  presence,  she  had  seen  that  they  were 
not  strangers;  she  pitied  them  for  speaking  falsely,  and 
when  she  vowed  to  thwart  this  course  of  evil  it  was  to  save 
a  younger  creature  of  her  sex,  not  in  rivalry.  She  treated 
them  both  with  a  proud  generosity  surpassing  gentleness. 
All  that  there  was  of  selfishness  in  her  bosom  resolved 
to  the  enjoyment  of  her  one  month  of  strongly  willed 
delusion. 

The  kiss  she  had  sunk  to  robbed  no  one,  not  even  her 
body's  purity,  for  when  this  knot  was  tied  she  consigned 
herself  to  her  end,  and  had  become  a  bag  of  dust.  The 
other  knots  in  the  string  pointed  to  verifications;  this  first 
one  was  a  suspicion,  and  it  was  the  more  precious,  she  felt 
it  to  be  more  a  certainty ;  it  had  come  from  the  dark  world 
beyond  us,  where  all  is  known.  Her  belief  that  it  had 
come  thence  was  nourished  by  testimony  of  the  space  of 
blackness  wherein  she  had  lived  since,  exhausting  her 
last  vitality  in  a  simulation  of  infantile  happiness,  which 
was  nothing  other  than  the  carrying  on  of  her  emotion  of 
the  moment  of  sharp  sour  sweet  —  such  as,  it  may  be,  the 
doomed  below  attain  for  their  knowledge  of  joy  —  when,  at 
the  first  meeting  with  her  lover,  the  perception  of  his 
treachery  to  the  soul  confiding  in  him,  told  her  she  had 
lived,  and  opened  out  the  cherishable  kingdom  of  insensi- 
bility to  her  for  her  heritage. 

She  made  her  tragic  humility  speak  thankfully  to  the 
wound  that  slew  her.  "  Had  it  not  been  so,  T  should  not 
have  seen  him,"  she  said :  —  Her  lover  would  not  have 
come  to  her  but  for  his  pursuit  of  another  woman. 

She  pardoned  him  for  being  attracted  by  that  beautiful 
transplant  of  the  fields :  pardoned  her  likewise.  "  He 
when  I  saw  him  first  was  as  beautiful  to  me.  For  him  I 
might  have  done  as  much." 

Far  away  in  a  lighted  hall  of  the  West,  her  family  raised 
hands  of  reproach.  They  were  minute  objects,  keenly  dis- 
cerned as  diminished  figures  cut   in  steel.     Feeling  could 


56  I'HE   TALE   OF   CHLOB 

not  be  very  warm  for  them,  they  were  so  small,  and  a  sea 
that  had  drowned  her  ran  between ;  and  looking  that  way 
she  had  scarce  any  warmth  of  feeling  save  for  a  white 
rhaiadr  leaping  out  of  broken  cloud  through  branched 
rocks,  where  she  had  climbed  and  dreamed  when  a  child. 
The  dream  was  then  of  the  coloured  days  to  come ;  now 
she  was  more  infant  in  her  mind,  and  she  watched  the 
scattered  water  broaden,  and  tasted  the  spray,  sat  there 
drinking  the  scene,  untroubled  by  hopes  as  a  lamb,  different 
only  from  an  infant  in  knowing  that  she  had  thrown  off  life 
to  travel  back  to  her  home  and  be  refreshed.  She  heard  her 
people  talk  ;  they  were  unending  babblers  in  the  waterfall. 
Truth  was  with  them,  and  wisdom.  How,  then,  could  she 
pretend  to  any  right  to  live  ?  Already  she  had  no  name ; 
she  was  less  living  than  a  tombstone.  For  who  was  Chloe  ? 
Her  family  might  pass  the  grave  of  Chloe  without  weeping, 
without  moralizing.  They  had  foreseen  her  ruin,  they  had 
foretold  it,  they  noised  it  in  the  waters,  and  on  they  sped 
to  the  plains,  telling  the  world  of  their  prophecy,  and  mak- 
ing what  was  untold  as  yet  a  lighter  thing  to  do. 

The  lamps  in  an  irregularly  dotted  line  underneath  the 
hill  beckoned  her  to  her  task  of  appearing  as  the  gayest  of 
them  that  draw  their  breath  for  the  day  and  have  pulses  for 
the  morrow. 


CHAPTER  X 


At  midnight  the  great  supper  party  to  celebrate  the  recon- 
ciliation of  Mr.  Beamish  and  Duchess  Susan  broke  up,  and 
beneath  a  soft  fair  sky  the  ladies,  with  their  silvery  chatter 
of  gratitude  for  amusement,  caught  Chloe  in  their  arms  to 
kiss  her,  rendering  it  natural  for  their  cavaliers  to  exclaim 
that  Chloe  was  blest  above  mortals.  The  duchess  preferred 
to  walk.  Her  spirits  were  excited,  and  her  language  smelt 
of  her  origin,  but  the  superb  fleshly  beauty  of  the  woman 
was  aglow,  and  crying,  "  I  declare  I  should  burst  in  one  of 
those  boxes — just  as  if  you'd  stalled  me!"  she  fanned  a 
wind  on  her  face,  and  sumptuously  spread  her  spherical 
skirts,  attended  by  the   vanquished  and  captive   Colonel 


THE  TALE   OF   CHLOE  57 

Poltermore,  a  gentleman  manifestly  bent  on  insinuating  sly 
slips  of"  speech  to  serve  for  here  a  pinch  of  powder,  there  a 
match.  "  Am  I  ? "  she  was  heard  to  say.  She  blew  pro- 
digious deep-chested  sighs  of  a  coquette  that  has  taken  to 
roaring. 

Presently  her  voice  tossed  out :  "  As  if  I  would !  "  These 
vivid  illuminations  of  the  Colonel's  proceedings  were  a 
pasture  to  the  rearward  groups,  composed  of  two  very 
grand  ladies,  Caseldy,  Mr.  Beamish,  a  lord,  and  Chloe. 

"  You  man  !  Oh !  "  sprang  from  the  duchess.  "  What 
do  I  hear  ?    I  won't  listen  ;  I  can't,  I  must  n't,  I  ought  n't." 

So  she  said,  but  her  head  careened,  she  gave  him  her  coy 
reluctant  ear,  with  total  abandonment  to  the  seductions  of 
his  whispers,  and  the  lord  let  fly  a  peal  of  laughter.  It 
had  been  a  supper  of  copious  wine,  and  the  songs  which 
rise  from  wine.  Nature  was  excused  by  our  midnight 
naturalists. 

The  two  great  dames,  admonished  by  the  violence  of  the 
nobleman's  laughter,  laid  claim  on  Mr.  Beamish  to  accom- 
pany them  at  their  parting  with  Chloe  and  Duchess  Susan. 

In  the  momentary  shuffling  of  couples  incident  to  adieux 
among  a  company,  the  duchess  murmured  to  Caseldy: 
"  Have  I  done  it  well  ?  " 

He  praised  her  for  perfection  in  her  acting.  "I  am  at 
your  door  at  three,  remember." 

"  My  heart 's  in  my  mouth,"  said  she. 

Colonel  Poltermore  still  had  the  privilege  of  conducting 
her  the  few  farther  steps  to  her  lodgings. 

Caseldy  walked  beside  Chloe,  and  silently,  until  he  said, 
"  If  I  have  not  yet  mentioned  the  subject " 

"  If  it  is  an  allusion  to  money  let  me  not  hear  it  to-night," 
she  replied. 

"  I  can  only  say  that  my  lawyers  have  instructions.  But 
my  lawyers  cannot  pay  you  in  gratitude.  Do  not  think  me 
in  your  hardest  review  of  my  misconduct  ungrateful.  I 
have  ever  esteemed  you  above  all  women ;  I  do,  and  I 
shall;  you  are  too  much  above  me.  I  am  afraid  I  am  a 
composition  of  bad  stuff ;  I  did  not  win  a  very  particularly 
good  name  on  the  Continent;  I  begin  to  know  myself,  and 
in  comparison  with  you,  dear  Catherine " 

"  You  speak  to  Chloe,"  she  said.     "  Catherine  is  a  buried 


58  THE   TALE   OF   CHLOE 

person.  She  died  without  pain.  She  is  by  this  time 
dust." 

The  man  heaved  his  breast.  "  Women  have  not  an  idea 
of  our  temptations." 

"You  are  excused  by  me  for  all  your  errors,  Caseldy. 
Always  remember  that." 

He  sighed  profoundly.  "Ay,  you  have  a  Christian's 
heart." 

She  answered,  "  I  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  it  is 
a  Pagan's." 

"As  for  me,"  he  rejoined,  "I  am  a  fatalist.  Through 
life  I  have  seen  my  destiny.  What  is  to  be,  will  be  ;  we 
can  do  nothing." 

"  I  have  heard  of  one  who  expired  of  a  surfeit  that  he 
anticipated,  nay  proclaimed,  when  indulging  in  the  lasV 
desired  morsel,"  said  Chloe. 

"  He  was  driven  to  it." 

"From  within." 

Caseldy  acquiesced  ;  his  wits  were  clouded,  and  an  illus- 
tration even  coarser  and  more  grotesque  would  have  won  a 
serious  nod  and  a  sigh  from  him.  "Yes,  we  are  moved  by 
other  hands  !  " 

"  It  is  pleasant  to  think  so :  and  think  it  of  me  to- 
morrow.    Will  you  ?  "  said  Chloe. 

He  promised  it  heartily,  to  induce  her  to  think  the  same 
of  him. 

Their  separation  was  in  no  way  remarkable.  The  pretty 
formalities  were  executed  at  the  door,  and  the  pair  of 
gentlemen  departed. 

"It's  quite  dark  still,"  Duchess  Susan  said,  looking  up 
at  the  sky,  and  she  ran  upstairs,  and  sank,  complaining  of 
the  weakness  of  her  legs,  in  a  chair  of  the  ante-chamber  of 
her  bedroom,  where  Chloe  slept.  Then  she  asked  the  time 
of  the  night.  She  could  not  suppress  her  hushed  "  Oh  !  " 
of  heavy  throbbing  from  minute  to  minute.  Suddenly  she 
started  off  at  a  quick  stride  to  her  own  room,  saying  that  it 
must  be  sleepiness  which  affected  her  so. 

Her  bedroom  had  a  door  to  the  sitting-room,  and  thence, 
as  also  from  Chloe's  room,  the  landing  on  the  stairs  was 
reached,  for  the  room  ran  parallel  with  both  bed-chambers. 
She  walked  in  it  and  threw  the  window  open,  but  closed  it 


THE   TALE   OF   CHLOE  59 

immediately  ;  opened  and  shut  the  door,  and  returned  and 
called  for  Chloe.  She  wanted  to  be  read  to.  Chloe  named 
certain  composing  books.  The  duchess  chose  a  book  of 
sermons.  "  But  we  're  all  such  dreadful  sinners,  it 's  better 
not  to  bother  ourselves  late  at  night."  She  dismissed  that 
suggestion.  Chloe  proposed  books  of  poetry.  "Only  I 
don't  understand  them  except  about  larks,  and  buttercups, 
and  hayfields,  and  that's  no  comfort  to  a  woman  burning," 
was  the  answer. 

"Are  you  feverish,  madam?"  said  Chloe.  And  the 
duchess  was  sharp  on  her :  "  Yes,  madam,  I  am." 

She  reproved  herself  in  a  change  of  tone :  "  No,  Chloe, 
not  feverish,  only  this  air  of  yours  here  is  such  an  exciting 
air,  as  the  doctor  says  ;  and  they  made  me  drink  wine,  and 
I  played  before  supper  —  Oh  !  my  money ;  I  used  to  say 
I  could  get  more,  but  now !  "  she  sighed  —  "  but  there  's 
better  in  the  world  than  money.  You  know  that,  don't  you, 
you  dear  ?  Tell  me.  And  I  want  you  to  be  happy  ;  that 
you  '11  find.  I  do  wish  we  could  all  be !  "  She  wept,  and 
spoke  of  requiring  a  little  music  to  compose  her. 
_  Chloe  stretched  a  hand  for  her  guitar.  Duchess  Susan 
listened  to  some  notes,  and  cried  that  it  went  to  her  heart 
and  hurt  her.  "  Everything  we  like  a  lot  has  a  fence  and 
a  board  against  trespassers,  because  of  such  a  lot  of  people 
in  the  world,"  she  moaned.  "Don't  play,  put  down  that 
thing,  please,  dear.     You  're  the  cleverest  creature  anybody 

has  ever  met ;  they  all  say  so.     I  wish  I Lovely  women 

catch  men,  and  clever  women  keep  them  :  I  've  heard  that 
said  in  this  wretched  place,  and  it 's  a  nice  prospect  for  me, 
next  door  to  a  fool!     I  know  I  am." 

"The  duke  adores  you,  madam." 

"  Poor  duke  !  Do  let  him  be  —  sleeping  so  woe-begone 
with  his  mouth  so,  and  that  chin  of  a  baby,  like  as  if  he 
dreamed  of  a  penny  whistle.  He  shouldn't  have  let  me 
come  here.  Talk  of  Mr.  Beamish.  How  he  will  miss  you, 
Chloe!" 

"  He  will,"  Chloe  said  sadly. 

"  If  you  go,  dear." 

"  I  am  going." 

"Why  should  you  leave  him,  Chloe?" 

"  I  must." 


60  THE   TALE   OF   CHLOE 

"And  there,  the  thought  of  it  makes  you  miserable!  " 

"It  does." 

"  You  need  n't,  I  'm  sure." 

Chloe  looked  at  her. 

The  duchess  turned  her  head.  "  Why  can't  you  be  gay, 
as  you  were  at  the  supper-table,  Chloe  ?  You  're  out  to 
him  like  a  flower  when  the  sun  jumps  over  the  hill ;  you're 
up  like  a  lark  in  the  dews  ;  as  I  used  to  be  when  I  thought 
of  nothing.  Oh,  the  early  morning  ;  and  I  'm  sleepy.  What 
a  beast  I  feel,  with  my  grandeur,  and  the  time  in  an  hour 
or  two  for  the  birds  to  sing,  and  me  ready  to  drop.  I  must 
go  and  undress." 

She  rushed  on  Chloe,  kissed  her  hastily,  declaring  that  she 
was  quite  dead  of  fatigue,  and  dismissed  her.  "  I  don't  want 
help,  I  can  undress  myself.  As  if  Susan  Barley  could  n't 
do  that  for  herself !  and  you  may  shut  your  door  —  I  sha'n't 
have  any  frights  to-night,  I  'm  so  tired  out." 

"  Another  kiss,"  Chloe  said  tenderly. 

"Yes,  take  it"  —  the  duchess  leaned  her  cheek  —  "but 
I  'm  so  tired  I  don't  know  what  I  'm  doing." 

"  It  will  not  be  on  your  conscience,"  Chloe  answered, 
kissing  her  warmly. 

With  those  words  she  withdrew,  and  the  duchess  closed 
the  door.     She  ran  a  bolt  in  it  immediately. 

"  I  'm  too  tired  to  know  anything  I  'm  doing,"  she  said  to 
herself,  and  stood  with  shut  eyes  to  hug  certain  thoughts 
which  set  her  bosom  heaving. 

There  was  the  bed,  there  was  the  clock.  She  had  the 
option  of  lying  down  and  floating  quietly  into  the  day,  all 
peril  past.  It  seemed  sweet  for  a  minute.  But  it  soon 
seemed  an  old,  a  worn,  an  end-of-autumn  life,  chill,  without 
aim,  like  a  something  that  was  hungry  and  toothless. 
The  bed  proposing  innocent  sleep  repelled  her  and  drove 
her  to  the  clock.  The  clock  was  awful :  the  hand  at  the 
hour,  the  finger  following  the  minute,  commanded  her  to 
stir  actively,  and  drove  her  to  gentle  meditations  on  the  bed. 
She  lay  down  dressed,  after  setting  her  light  beside  the 
clock,  that  she  might  see  it  at  will,  and  considering  it 
necessary  for  the  bed  to  appear  to  have  been  lain  on. 
Considering  also  that  she  ought  to  be  heard  moving  about 
in  the  process   of  undressing,  she  rose  from  the  bed  to 


THE  TALE   OF   CHLOE  61 

make  sure  of  her  reading  of  the  guilty  clock.  An  hour  and 
twenty  minutes !  she  had  no  more  time  than  that :  and  it  was 
not  enough  for  her  various  preparations,  though  it  was 
true  that  her  maid  had  packed  and  taken  a  box  of  the 
things  chiefly  needful ;  but  the  duchess  had  to  change  her 
shoes  and  her  dress,  and  run  at  bo-peep  with  the  changes 
of  her  mind,  a  sedative  preface  to  any  fatal  step  among 
women  of  her  complexion,  for  so  they  invite  indecision  to 
exhaust  their  scruples,  and  they  let  the  blood  have  its  way. 
Having  so  short  a  space  of  time,  she  thought  the  matter 
decided,  and  with  some  relief  she  flung  despairing  on  the 
bed,  and  lay  down  for  good  with  her  duke.  In  a  little 
while  her  head  was  at  work  reviewing  him  sternly, 
estimating  him  not  less  accurately  than  the  male  moralist 
charitable  to  her  sex  would  do.  She  quitted  the  bed,  with  a 
spring  to  escape  her  imagined  lord ;  and  as  if  she  had  felt 
him  to  be  there,  she  lay  down  no  more.  A  quiet  life  like 
that  was  flatter  to  her  idea  than  a  handsomely  bound  big 
book  without  any  print  on  the  pages,  and  without  a  picture. 
Her  contemplation  of  it,  contrasted  with  the  life  waved  to 
her  view  by  the  timepiece,  set  her  whole  system  raging ; 
she  burned  to  fly.  Providently,  nevertheless,  she  thumped 
a  pillow,  and  threw  the  bedclothes  into  proper  disorder, 
to  inform  the  world  that  her  limbs  had  warmed  them,  and 
that  all  had  been  impulse  with  her.  She  then  proceeded  to 
disrobe,  murmuring  to  herself  that  she  could  stop  now,  and 
could  stop  now,  at  each  stage  of  the  advance  to  a  fresh  dress- 
ing of  her  person,  and  moralizing  on  her  singular  fate,  in  the 
mouth  of  an  observer.  "  She  was  shot  up  suddenly  over 
everybody's  head,  and  suddenly  down  she  went."  Susan 
whispered  to  herself :  "But  it  was  for  love  ! "  Possessed  by 
the  rosiness  of  love,  she  finished  her  business,  with  an  atten- 
tion to  everything  needed  that  was  equal  to  perfect  serenity 
of  mind.  After  which  there  was  nothing  to  do,  save  to  sit 
humped  in  a  chair,  cover  her  face  and  count  the  clock- 
tickings,  that  said,  Yes  —  no  ;  do  —  don't ;  fly  —  stay  ;  fly 
—  fly  !  It  seemed  to  her  she  heard  a  moving.  Well  she 
might  with  that  dreadful  heart  of  hers! 

Chloe  was  asleep,  at  peace  by  this  time,  she  thought; 
and  how  she  envied  Chloe !  She  might  be  as  happy,  if  she 
pleased.     Why  not  ?     But  what  kind  of  happiness  was  it  ? 


62  THE  TALE   OF   CHLOE 

She  likened  it  to  that  of   the  corpse   underground,   and 
shrank  distastefully. 

Susan  stood  at  her  glass  to  have  a  look  at  the  crea- 
ture about  whom  there  was  all  this  disturbance,  and  she 
threw  up  her  arms  high  for  a  languid,  not  unlovely  yawn, 
that  closed  in  blissful  shuddering  with  the  sensation  of 
her  lover's  arms  having  wormed  round  her  waist  and 
taken  her  while  she  was  defenceless.  For  surely  they 
would.  She  took  a  jewelled  ring,  his  gift,  from  her 
purse,  and  kissed  it,  and  drew  it  on  and  off  her  finger, 
leaving  it  on.  Now  she  might  wear  it  without  fear  of 
inquiries  and  virtuous  eyebrows.  O  heavenly  now  —  if 
only  it  were  an  hour  hence,  and  going  behind  galloping 
horses ! 

The  clock  was  at  the  terrible  moment.  She  hesitated 
internally  and  hastened;  once  her  feet  stuck  fast,  and 
firmly  she  said,  "No;"  but  the  clock  was  her  lord.  The 
clock  was  her  lover  and  her  lord;  and  obeying  it,  she 
managed  to  get  into  the  sitting-room,  on  the  pretext  that 
she  merely  wished  to  see  through  the  front  window  whether 
daylight  was  coming. 

How  well  she  knew  that  half-light  of  the  ebb  of  the 
wave  of  darkness. 

Strange  enough  it  was  to  see  it  showing  houses  regaining 
their  solidity  of  the  foregone  day,  instead  of  still  fields, 
black  hedges,  familiar  shapes  of  trees.  The  houses  had  no 
wakefulness,  they  were  but  seen  to  stand,  and  the  light 
was  a  revelation  of  emptiness.  Susan's  heart  was  cunning 
to  reproach  her  duke  for  the  difference  of  the  scene  she 
beheld  from  that  of  the  innocent  open-breasted  land.  Yes, 
it  was  dawn  in  a  wicked  place  that  she  never  should  have 
been  allowed  to  visit.  But  where  was  he  whom  she  looked 
for?  There!  The  cloaked  figure  of  a  man  was  at  the 
corner  of  the  street.  It  was  he.  Her  heart  froze;  but 
her  limbs  were  strung  to  throw  off  the  house,  and  reach 
air,  breathe,  and  (as  her  thoughts  ran)  swoon,  well- 
protected.  To  her  senses  the  house  was  a  house  on  fire, 
and  crying  to  her  to  escape. 

Yet  she  stepped  deliberately,  to  be  sure-footed  in  a 
dusky  room;  she  touched  along  the  wall  and  came  to  the 
door,    where  a  foot-stool    nearly  tripped  her.     Here   hei 


THE   TALE   OF   CHLOE  63 

touch  whs  at  fault,  for  though  she  knew  she  must  be  close 
by  the  door,  she  was  met  by  an  obstruction  unlike  wood , 
and  the  door  seemed  neither  shut  nor  open.  She  could  not 
find  the  handle ;  something  hung  over  it.  Thinking  coolly, 
she  fancied  the  tiling  must  be  a  gown  or  dressing-gown ;  it 
hung  heavily.  Her  fingers  were  sensible  of  the  touch  of 
silk;  she  distinguished  a  depending  bulk,  and  she  felt  at  it 
very  carefully  and  mechanically,  saying  within  herself,  in 
her  anxiety  to  pass  it  without  noise,  "  If  I  should  awake 
poor  Chloe,  of  all  people!  "  Her  alarm  was  that  the  door 
might  creak.  Before  any  other  alarm  had  struck  her  brain, 
the  hand  she  felt  with  was  in  a  palsy,  her  mouth  gaped, 
her  throat  thickened,  the  dust-ball  rose  in  her  throat,  and 
the  effort  to  swallow  it  down  and  get  breath  kept  her  from 
acute  speculation  while  she  felt  again,  pinched,  plucked 
at  the  thing,  ready  to  laugh,  ready  to  shriek.  Above  her 
head,  all  on  one  side,  the  thing  had  a  round  white  top. 
Could  it  be  a  hand  that  her  touch  had  slid  across?  An  arm 
too!  this  was  an  arm!  She  clutched  it,  imagining  that  it 
clung  to  her.  She  pulled  it  to  release  herself  from  it, 
desperately  she  pulled,  and  a  lump  descended,  and  a  flash 
of  all  the  torn  nerves  of  her  body  told  her  that  a  dead 
human  body  was  upon  her. 

At  a  quarter  to  four  o'clock  of  a  midsummer  morning,  as 
Mr.  Beamish  relates  of  his  last  share  in  the  Tale  of  Chloe, 
a  woman's  voice,  in  piercing  notes  of  anguish,  rang  out 
three  shrieks  consecutively,  which  were  heard  by  him  at 
the  instant  of  his  quitting  his  front  doorstep,  in  obedience 
to  the  summons  of  young  Mr.  Camwell,  delivered  ten 
minutes  previously,  with  great  urgency,  by  that  gentle- 
man's lacquey.  On  his  reaching  the  street  of  the  house 
inhabited  by  Duchess  Susan,  he  perceived  many  night- 
capped  heads  at  windows,  and  one  window  of  the  house  in 
question  lifted  but  vacant.  His  first  impression  accused 
the  pair  of  gentlemen,  whom  he  saw  bearing  drawn  swords 
in  no  friendly  attitude,  of  an  ugly  brawl  that  had  probably 
affrighted  her  Grace,  or  her  personal  attendant,  a  woman 
capable  of  screaming,  for  he  was  well  assured  that  it  could 
not  have  been  Chloe,  the  least  likely  of  her  sex  to  abandon 
herself  to  the  use  of  their  weapous  either  in  terror  or  in 


64  THE  TALE  OF  CHLOE 

jeopardy.  The  antagonists  were  Mr.  Camwell  and  Count) 
Caseldy.  On  his  approaching  them,  Mr.  Camwell  sheathed 
his  sword,  saying  that  his  work  was  done.  Caseldy  was 
convulsed  with  wrath,  to  such  a  degree  as  to  make  the  part 
of  an  intermediary  perilous.  There  had  been  passes  be- 
tween them,  and  Caseldy  cried  aloud  that  he  would  have 
his  enemy's  blood.  The  night-watch  was  nowhere.  Soon, 
however,  certain  shopmen  and  their  apprentices  assisted 
Mr.  Beamish  to  preserve  the  peace,  despite  the  fury  of 
Caseldy  and  the  provocations  —  "not  easy  to  withstand," 
says  the  chronicler  —  offered  by  him  to  young  Camwell. 
The  latter  said  to  Mr.  Beamish:  "I  knew  I  should  be  no 
match,  so  I  sent  for  you,"  causing  his  friend  astonish- 
ment, inasmuch  as  he  was  assured  of  the  youth's  natural 
valour. 

Mr.  Beamish  was  about  to  deliver  an  allocution  of  re- 
proof to  them  in  equal  shares,  being  entirely  unsuspicious 
of  any  other  reason  for  the  alarum  than  this  palpable  out- 
break of  a  rivalry  that  he  would  have  inclined  to  attrib- 
ute to  the  charms  of  Chloe,  when  the  house-door ■  swung 
wide  for  them  to  enter,  and  the  landlady  of  the  house, 
holding  clasped  hands  at  full  stretch,  implored  them  to 
run  up  to  the  poor  lady:  "Oh,  she's  dead;  she's  dead, 
dead!" 

Caseldy  rushed  past  her. 

"How,  dead!  good  woman?"  Mr.  Beamish  questioned 
her  most  incredulously,  half-smiling. 

She  answered  among  her  moans :  "  Dead  by  the  neck ;  off 
the  door.— Oh!" 

Young  Camwell  pressed  his  forehead,  with  a  call  on  his 
Maker's  name.  As  they  reached  the  landing  upstairs, 
Caseldy  came  out  of  the  sitting-room. 

"  Which  ?  "  said  Camwell  to  the  speaking  of  his  face. 

"  She !  "  said  the  other. 

"The  duchess?"  Mr.  Beamish  exclaimed. 

But  Camwell  walked  into  the  room.  He  had  nothing  to 
ask  after  that  reply. 

The  figure  stretched  along  the  floor  was  covered  with  a 
sheet.  The  young  man  fell  at  his  length  beside  it,  and  his 
face  was  downward. 


THE  TALE  OF  CHLOE  65 

Mr.  Beamish  relates:  "To  this  day,  when  I  write  at  an 
interval  of  fifteen  years,  I  have  the  tragic  ague  of  that  hour 
in  my  blood,  and  I  behold  the  shrouded  form  of  the  most 
admirable  of  women,  whose  heart  was  broken  by  a  faithless 
tnan  ere  she  devoted  her  wreck  of  life  to  arrest  one  weaker 
than  herself  on  the  descent  to  perdition.  Therein  it  was 
beneficently  granted  her  to  be  of  the  service  she  prayed  to 
be  through  her  death.  She  died  to  save.  In  a  last  letter, 
found  upon  her  pin-cushion,  addressed  to  me  under  seai 
of  secrecy  toward  the  parties  principally  concerned,  she 
anticipates  the  whole  confession  of  the  unhappy  duchess. 
Nay,  she  prophesies:  '  The  duchess  will  tell  you  truly  she 
has  had  enough  of  love ! '  Those  actual  words  were  reiter- 
ated to  me  by  the  poor  lady  daily  until  her  lord  arrived  to 
head  the  funeral  procession,  and  assist  in  nursing  back 
the  shattered  health  of  his  wife  to  a  state  that  should  fit 
her  for  travelling.  To  me,  at  least,  she  was  constant  in 
repeating,  '  No  more  of  love ! '  By  her  behaviour  to  her 
duke,  I  can  judge  her  to  have  been  sincere.  She  spoke  of 
feeling  Chloe's  eyes  go  through  her  with  every  word  of 
hers  that  she  recollected.  Nor  was  the  end  of  Chloe  less 
effective  upon  the  traitor.  He  was  in  the  procession  to  her 
grave.  He  spoke  to  none.  There  is  a  line  of  the  verse 
bearing  the  superscription,  '  My  Reasons  for  Dying, '  that 
shows  her  to  have  been  apprehensive  to  secure  the  safety 
of  Mr.  Cam  well : 

I  die  because  my  heart  is  dead : 

To  warn  a  soul  from  sin  I  die : 

I  die  that  blood  may  not  be  shed,  etc. 

She  feared  he  would  be  somewhere  on  the  road  to  mar  the 
fugitives,  and  she  knew  him,  as  indeed  he  knew  himself, 
no  match  for  one  trained  in  the  foreign  tricks  of  steel, 
ready  though  he  was  to  dispute  the  traitor's  way.  She 
remembers  Mr.  Camwell's  petition  for  the  knotted  silken 
string  in  her  request  that  it  shall  be  cut  from  her  throat 
and  given  to  him." 

Mr.  Beamish  indulges  in  verses  above  the  grave  of 
Chloe.  They  are  of  a  character  to  cool  emotion.  But 
when  we  find  a  man,  who  is  commonly  of  the  quickest 
susceptibility  to  ridicule  as  well  as  to  what  is  befitting, 


66  THE   TALE   OF   CHLOE 

careless  of  exposure,  we  may  reflect  on  the  truthfulness  of 
feeling  by  which  he  is  drawn  to  pass  his  own  guard  and 
come  forth  in  his  nakedness;  something  of  the  poet's 
tongue  may  breathe  to  us  through  his  mortal  stammering, 
even  if  we  have  to  acknowledge  that  a  quotation  would 
scatter  pathos. 


THE  HOUSE   ON  THE  BEACH 


THE    HOUSE    ON    THE    BEACH 

A  REALISTIC  TALE 


CHAPTER  I 


The  experience  of  great  officials  who  have  laid  down  their 
dignities  before  death,  or  have  had  the  philosophic  mind 
to  review  themselves  while  still  wielding  the  deputy 
sceptre,  teaches  them  that  in  the  exercise  of  authority  over 
men  an  eccentric  behaviour  in  trifles  has  most  exposed 
them  to  hostile  criticism  and  gone  farthest  to  jeopardize 
their  popularity.  It  is  their  Achilles'  heel;  the  place 
where  their  mother  Nature  holds  them  as  she  dips  them 
in  our  waters.  The  eccentricity  of  common  persons  is  the 
entertainment  of  the  multitude,  and  the  maternal  hand  is 
perceived  for  a  cherishing  and  endearing  sign  upon  them; 
but  rarely  can  this  be  found  suitable  for  the  august  in 
station ;  only,  indeed,  when  their  sceptre  is  no  more  fearful 
than  a  grandmother's  birch ;  and  these  must  learn  from  it 
sooner  or  later  that  they  are  uncomfortably  mortal. 

When  herrings  are  at  auction  on  a  beach,  for  example, 
the  man  of  chief  distinction  in  the  town  should  not  step  in 
among  a  poor  fraternity  to  take  advantage  of  an  occasion 
of  cheapness,  though  it  be  done,  as  he  may  protest,  to 
relieve  the  fishermen  of  a  burden ;  nor  should  such  a  dig- 
nitary as  the  bailiff  of  a  Cinque  Port  carry  home  the  spoil 
of  victorious  bargaining  on  his  arm  in  a  basket.  It  is  not 
that  his  conduct  is  in  itself  objectionable,  so  much  as  that 
it  causes  him  to  be  popularly  weighed;  and  during  life, 
until  the  best  of  all  advocates  can  plead  before  our  fellow 
Englishmen  that  we  are  out  of  their  way,  it  is  prudent  to 
avoid  the  process 


70  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

Mr.   Tinman,    however,  this    high-stepping    person    in 
question,  happened  to  have  come  of  a  marketing  mother. 
She  had  started  him  from  a  small  shop  to  a  big  one.     He, 
by  the  practice  of  her  virtues,  had  been  enabled  to  start 
himself  as  a  gentleman.     He  was  a  man  of  this  ambition, 
and  prouder  behind  it.    But  having  started  himself  precipi- 
tately, he  took  rank  among  independent  incomes,  as  they 
are  called,  only  to  take  fright  at  the  perils  of  starvation 
besetting  one  who  has  been  tempted  to  abandon  the  source 
of  fifty  per  cent.     So,  if  noble  imagery  were  allowable  in 
our   time   in  prose,  might  alarms  and  partial  regrets  be 
assumed  to  animate  the  splendid  pumpkin  cut  loose  from 
the  suckers.     Deprived  of  that  prodigious  nourishment  of 
the   shop   in  the   fashionable  seaport   of   Helmstone,   he 
retired  upon  his  native  town,  the  Cinque  Port  of  Crikswich, 
where  he  rented  the  cheapest  residence  he  could  discover 
for  his   habitation,  the   House   on  the   Beach,  and  lived 
imposingly,   though   not   in   total   disaccord  with  his  old 
mother's   principles.     His  income,  as  he  observed  to  his 
widowed  sister  and   solitary  companion   almost   daily   in 
their  privacy,  was  respectable.     The  descent  from  an  alti- 
tude of  fifty  to  five  per  cent,  cannot  but  be  felt.     Never- 
theless it  was  a  comforting  midnight  bolster  reflection  for  a 
man,  turning  over  to  the  other  side  between  a  dream  and 
a  wink,  that  he  was  making  no  bad  debts,  and  one  must 
pay  to  be  addressed  as  esquire.     Once  an  esquire,  you  are 
off  the  ground  in  England  and  on  the  ladder.     An  esquire 
can  offer  his  hand  in  marriage  to  a  lady  in  her  own  right; 
plain  esquires  have  married  duchesses ;   they  marry  baro- 
nets' daughters  every  day  of  the  week. 

Thoughts  of  this  kind  were  as  the  rise  and  fall  of  waves 
in  the  bosom  of  the  new  esquire.  How  often  in  his  Helm- 
stone  shop  had  he  not  heard  titled  ladies  disdaining  to  talk 
a  whit  more  prettily  than  ordinary  women;  and  he  had 
been  a  match  for  the  subtlety  of  their  pride  —  he  understood 
it.  He  knew  well  that  at  the  hint  of  a  proposal  from  him 
they  would  have  spoken  out  in  a  manner  very  different  to 
that  of  ordinary  women.  The  lightning,  only  to  be  warded 
by  an  esquire,  was  in  them.  He  quitted  business  at  the 
age  of  forty,  that  he  might  pretend  to  espousals  with  a 
born  lady;  or  at  least  it  was  one  of  the  ideas  in  his  mind. 


THE   HOUSE   ON    THE  BEACH  71 

And  here,  I  think,  is  the  moment  for  the  epitaph  of 
anticipation  over  him,  and  the  exclamation,  alas !  1  would 
not  be  premature,  but  it  is  necessary  to  create  some  interest 
in  him,  and  no  one  but  a  foreigner  could  feel  it  at  present 
for  the  Englishman  who  is  bursting  merely  to  do  like  the 
rest  of  his  countrymen,  and  rise  above  them  to  shake  them 
class  by  class  as  the  dust  from  his  heels.  Alas!  then  — 
and  undertaker's  pathos  is  better  than  none  at  all  —  he  was 
not  a  single-minded  aspirant  to  our  social  honours.  The 
old  marketing  mother,  to  whom  he  owed  his  fortunes,  was 
in  his  blood  to  confound  his  ambition;  and  so  contradictory 
was  the  man's  nature,  that  in  revenge  for  disappointments, 
there  were  times  when  he  turned  against  the  saving  spirit 
of  parsimony.  Readers  deep  in  Greek  dramatic  writings 
will  see  the  fatal  Sisters  behind  the  chair  of  a  man  who 
gives  frequent  and  bigger  dinners,  that  he  may  become 
important  in  his  neighbourhood,  while  decreasing  the 
price  he  pays  for  his  wine,  that  he  may  miserably  indem- 
nify himself  for  the  outlay.  A  sip  of  his  wine  fetched  the 
breath,  as  when  men  are  in  the  presence  of  the  tremendous 
elements  of  nature.  It  sounded  the  constitution  more 
darkly-awful,  and  with  a  profounder  testimony  to  stubborn 
health,  than  the  physician's  instruments.  Most  of  the 
guests  at  Mr.  Tinman's  table  were  so  constructed  that 
they  admired  him  for  its  powerful  quality  the  more  at  his 
announcement  of  the  price  of  it;  the  combined  strength 
and  cheapness  probably  flattering  them,  as  by  another 
mystic  instance  of  the  national  energy.  It  must  have  been 
so,  since  his  townsmen  rejoiced  to  hail  him  as  head  of  their 
town.  Here  and  there  a  solitary  esquire,  fished  out  of  the 
bathing  season  to  dine  at  the  house  on  the  beach,  was 
guilty  of  raising  one  of  those  clamours  concerning  subse- 
quent headaches,  which  spread  an  evil  reputation  as  a  pall. 
A  resident  esquire  or  two,  in  whom  a  reminiscence  of 
Tinman's  table  may  be  likened  to  the  hook  which  some  old 
trout  has  borne  away  from  the  angler  as  the  most  vivid 
of  warnings  to  him  to  beware  for  the  future,  caught  up  the 
black  report  and  propagated  it. 

The  Lieutenant  of  the  Coastguard,  hearing  the  latest  con- 
scious victim,  or  hearing  of  him,  would  nod  his  head  and 
say  he  had  never  dined  at  Tinman's  table  without  a  head- 


72  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

ache  ensuing  and  a  visit  to  the  chemist's  shop;  which,  he 
was  assured,  was  good  for  trade,  and  he  acquiesced,  as  it 
was  right  to  do  in  a  man  devoted  to  his  country.  He  dined 
with  Tinman  again.  We  try  our  best  to  be  social.  For 
eight  months  in  our  year  he  had  little  choice  but  to  dine 
with  Tinman  or  be  a  hermit  attached  to  a  telescope. 

"  Where  are  you  going,  Lieutenant  ?  "  His  frank  reply 
to  the  question  was,  "I  am  going  to  be  killed;"  and  it 
grew  notorious  that  this  meant  Tinman's  table.  We  get 
on  together  as  well  as  we  can.  Perhaps  if  we  were  an 
acutely  calculating  people  we  should  find  it  preferable  both 
for  trade  and  our  physical  prosperity  to  turn  and  kill  Tin- 
man, in  contempt  of  consequences.  But  we  are  not,  and  so 
he  does  the  business  gradually  for  us.  A  generous  people 
we  must  be,  for  Tinman  was  not  detested.  The  recollection 
of  "next  morning  "  caused  him  to  be  dimly  feared. 

Tinman,  meanwhile,  was  awake  only  to  the  circumstance 
that  he  made  no  progress  as  an  esquire,  except  on  the 
envelopes  of  letters,  and  in  his  own  esteem.  That  broad 
region  he  began  to  occupy  to  the  exclusion  of  other  inhab- 
itants; and  the  result  of  such  a  state  of  princely  isolation 
was  a  plunge  of  his  whole  being  into  deep  thoughts. 
From  the  hour  of  his  investiture  as  the  town's  chief  man, 
thoughts  which  were  long  shots  took  possession  of  him. 
He  had  his  wits  about  him;  he  was  alive  to  ridicule;  he 
kuew  he  was  not  popular  below,  or  on  easy  terms  with 
people  above  him,  and  he  meditated  a  surpassing  stroke  as 
one  of  the  Band  of  Esq.,  that  had  nothing  original  about  it 
to  perplex  and  annoy  the  native  mind,  yet  was  dazzling. 
Few  members  of  the  privileged  Band  dare  even  imagine 
the  thing. 

It  will  hardly  be  believed,  but  it  is  historical  fact,  that 
in  the  act  of  carrying  fresh  herrings  home  on  his  arm,  he 
entertained  the  idea  of  a  visit  to  the  First  Person  and 
Head  of  the  realm,  and  was  indulging  in  pleasing  visions 
of  the  charms  of  a  personal  acquaintance.  Nay,  he  had 
already  consulted  with  brother  jurats.  For  you  must  know 
that  one  of  the  princesses  had  recently  suffered  betrothal 
in  the  newspapers,  and  supposing  her  to  deign  to  ratify  the 
engagement,  what  so  reasonable  on  the  part  of  a  Cinque 
Port  chieftain  as  to  congratulate   his   liege  mistress,  her 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH  73 

illustrious  mother  ?  These  are  thoughts  and  these  are 
deeds  which  give  emotional  warmth  and  colour  to  the 
electer  members  of  a  population  wretchedly  befogged. 
They  are  our  sunlight,  and  our  brighter  theme  of  conversa- 
tion. They  are  necessary  to  the  climate  and  the  Saxon 
mind;  and  it  would  be  foolish  to  put  them  away,  as  it  is 
foolish  not  to  do  our  utmost  to  be  intimate  with  terrestrial 
splendours  while  we  have  them  —  as  it  may  be  said  of 
wardens,  mayors,  and  bailiffs  —  at  command.  '  Tinman  was 
quite  of  this  opinion.  They  are  there  to  relieve  our 
dulness.  We  have  them  in  the  place  of  heavenly ;  and  he 
would  have  argued  that  we  have  a  right  to  bother  them  too. 
He  had  a  notion,  up  in  the  clouds,  of  a  Sailors'  Convales- 
cent Hospital  at  Crikswich  to  seduce  a  prince  with,  hand 
him  the  trowel,  make  him  "lay  the  stone,"  and  then  — 
poor  prince !  —  refresh  him  at  table.  But  that  was  a 
matter  for  by  and  by. 

His  purchase  of  herrings  completed,  Mr.  Tinman  walked 
across  the  mound  of  shingle  to  the  house  on  the  beach.  He 
was  rather  a  fresh-faced  man,  of  the  Saxon  colouring,  and 
at  a  distance  looking  good-humoured.  That  he  should 
have  been  able  to  make  such  an  appearance  while  doing 
daily  battle  with  his  wine,  was  a  proof  of  great  physical 
vigour.  His  pace  was  leisurely,  as  it  must  needs  be  over 
pebbles,  where  half  a  step  is  subtracted  from  each  whole 
one  in  passing;  and,  besides,  he  was  aware  of  a  general 
breath  at  his  departure  that  betokened  a  censorious  assem- 
bly. Why  should  he  not  market  for  himself  ?  He  threw 
dignity  into  his  retreating  figure  in  response  to  the  inter- 
nal interrogation.  The  moment  was  one  when  conscious 
rectitude  requires  that  man  should  have  a  tail  for  its  just 
display.  Philosophers  have  drawn  attention  to  the  power 
of  the  human  face  to  express  pure  virtue,  but  no  sooner 
has  it  passed  on  than  the  spirit  erect  within  would  seem 
helpless.  The  breadth  of  our  shoulders  is  apparently 
presented  for  our  critics  to  write  on.  Poor  duty  is  done 
by  the  simple  sense  of  moral  worth,  to  supplant  that 
absence  of  feature  in  the  plain  flat  back.  We  are  below 
the  animals  in  this.  How  charged  with  language  behind 
him  is  a  dog!  Everybody  has  noticed  it.  Let  a  dog  turn 
away  from  a  hostile  circle,  and  his  crisp  and  wary  tail  not 


74  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

merely  defends  him,  it  menaces;  it  is  a  weapon.  Man  has 
no  choice  but  to  surge  and  boil,  or  stiffen  preposterously. 
Knowing  the  popular  sentiment  about  his  marketing  —  for 
men  can  see  behind  their  backs,  though  they  may  have 
nothing  to  speak  with  —  Tinman  resembled  those  persons 
of  principle  who  decline  to  pay  for  a  "  Bless  your  honour!  " 
from  a  voluble  beggar-woman,  and  obtain  the  reverse  of  it 
after  they  have  gone  by.  He  was  sufficiently  sensitive  to 
feel  that  his  back  was  chalked  as  on  a  slate.  The  only 
remark  following  him  was,  "There  he  goes!  " 

He  went  to  the  seaward  gate  oi  the  house  on  the  beach, 
made  practicable  in  a  low  flint  wall,  where  he  was  met  by 
his  sister  Martha,  to  whom  he  handed  the  basket.  Appar- 
ently he  named  the  cost  of  his  purchase  per  dozen.  She 
touched  the  fish  and  pressed  the  bellies  of  the  topmost,  it 
might  be  to  question  them  tenderly  concerning  their  roes. 
Then  the  couple  passed  out  of  sight.  Herrings  were  soon 
after  this  despatching  their  odours  through  the  chimneys 
of  all  Crikswich,  and  there  was  that  much  of  concord  and 
festive  union  among  the  inhabitants. 

The  house  on  the  beach  had  been  posted  where  it  stood, 
one  supposes,  for  the  sake  of  the  sea-view,  from  which  it 
turned  right  about  to  face  the  town  across  a  patch  of  grass 
and  salt  scurf,  looking  like  a  square  and  scornful  corporal 
engaged  in  the  perpetual  review  of  an  awkward  squad 
of  recruits.  Sea  delighted  it  not,  nor  land  either.  Marine 
Parade  fronting  it  to  the  left,  shaded  sickly  eyes,  under  a 
worn  green  verandah,  from  a  sun  that  rarely  appeared,  as 
the  traducers  of  spinsters  pretend  those  virgins  are  ever 
keenly  on  their  guard  against  him  that  cometh  not.  Belle 
Vue  Terrace  stared  out  of  lank  glass  panes  without  reserve, 
unashamed  of  its  yellow  complexion.  A  gaping  public- 
house,  calling  itself  newly  Hotel,  fell  backward  a  step. 
Villas  with  the  titles  of  royalty  and  bloody  battles  claimed 
five  feet  of  garden,  and  swelled  in  bow-windows  beside 
other  villas  which  drew  up  firmly,  commending  to  the 
attention  a  decent  straightness  and  un intrusive  decorum  in 
preference.  On  an  elevated  meadow  to  the  right  was  the 
Crouch.  The  Hall  oi  Elba  nestled  among  weather-beaten 
dwarf  woods  further  toward  the  cliff.  Shavenness,  feature- 
lessness,    emptiness,   clamminess,    scurfiness,    formed  the 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH  75 

outward  expression  of  a  town  to  which  people  were  rea- 
sonably glad  to  come  from  London  in  summer-time,  for  there 
was  nothing  in  Crikswich  to  distract  the  naked  pursuit  of 
health.  The  sea  tossed  its  renovating  brine  to  the  deter- 
minedly sniffing  animal,  who  went  to  his  meals  Avith  an 
appetite  that  rendered  him  cordially  eulogistic  of  the  place, 
in  spite  of  certain  frank  whiffs  of  sewerage  coming  off  an 
open  deposit  on  the  common  to  mingle  with  the  brine. 
Tradition  told  of  a  French  lady  and  gentleman  entering 
the  town  to  take  lodgings  for  a  month,  and  that  on  the 
morrow  they  took  a  boat  from  the  shore,  saying  in  their 
faint  English  to  a  sailor  veteran  of  the  coastguard,  whom 
they  had  consulted  about  the  weather,  "It  is  better  zis 
zan  zat,"  as  they  shrugged  between  rough  sea  and  corpse- 
like land.  And  they  were  not  seen  again.  Their  meaning 
none  knew.  Having  paid  their  bill  at  the  lodging-house, 
their  conduct  was  ascribed  to  systematic  madness.  Eng- 
lish people  came  to  Crikswich  for  the  pure  salt  sea  air,  and 
they  did  not  expect  it  to  be  cooked  and  dressed  and 
decorated  for  them.  If  these  things  are  done  to  nature,  it 
is  nature  no  longer  that  you  have,  but  something  Frenchi- 
fied. Those  French  are  for  trimming  Neptune's  beard! 
Only  wait,  and  you  are  sure  to  find  variety  in  nature,  more 
than  you  may  like.  You  will  find  it  in  Neptune.  What 
say  jou  to  a  breach  of  the  sea-wall,  and  an  inundation  of 
the  aromatic  grass-flat  extending  from  the  house  on  the 
beach  to  the  tottering  terraces,  villas,  cottages,  and  public- 
house  transformed  by  its  ensign  to  Hotel,  along  the  front- 
age of  the  town  ?  Such  an  event  had  occurred  of  old,  and 
had  given  the  house  on  the  beach  the  serious  shaking  great 
Neptune  in  his  wrath  alone  can  give.  But  many  years  had 
intervened.  Groynes  had  been  run  down  to  intercept  him 
and  divert  him.  He  generally  did  his  winter  mischief  od 
a  mid  and  salt  marshes  lower  westward.  Mr.  Tinman  had 
always  been  extremely  zealous  in  promoting  the  expendi- 
ture of  what  moneys  the  town  had  to  spare  upon  the 
protection  of  the  shore,  as  it  were  for  the  propitiation  or 
defiance  of  the  sea-god.  There  was  .a  kindly  joke  against 
him  on  that  subject  among  brother  jurats.  He  retorted 
with  the  joke,  that  the  first  thing  for  Englishmen  to  look 
t*>  w«*6  England's  defences. 


76  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

But  it  will  not  do  to  be  dwelling  too  fondly  on  our  eras 
of  peace,  for  which  we  make  such  splendid  sacrifices. 
Peace,  saving  for  the  advent  of  a  German  band,  which 
troubled  the  repose  of  the  town  at  intervals,  had  imparted 
to  the  inhabitants  of  Crikswich,  within  and  without,  the 
likeness  to  its  most  perfect  image,  together,  it  must  be  con- 
fessed, with  a  degree  of  nervousness  that  invested  common 
events  with  some  of  the  terrors  of  the  Last  Trump,  when 
one  night,  just  upon  the  passing  of  the  vernal  equinox, 
something  happened. 


CHAPTER  II 


A  carriage  stopped  short  in  the  ray  of  candlelight  that 
was  fitfully  and  feebly  capering  on  the  windy  blackness 
outside  the  open  workshop  of  Crickledon,  the  carpenter, 
fronting  the  sea-beach.  Mr.  Tinman's  house  was  inquired 
for.  Crickledon  left  off  planing;  at  half-sprawl  over  the 
board,  he  bawled  out,  "Turn  to  the  right;  right  ahead f 
can't  mistake  it."  He  nodded  to  one  of  the  cronies  intent 
on  watching  his  labours :  "  Not  unless  they  mean  to  be 
bait  for  whiting-pout.  Who's  that  for  Tinman,  I  won- 
der ?  "  The  speculations  of  Crickledon's  friends  were  lost 
in  the  scream  of  the  plane. 

One  cast  an  eye  through  tne  door  and  observed  that  the 
carriage  was  there  still.  "  Gentleman 's  got  out  and 
walked,"  said  Crickledon.  He  was  informed  that  some- 
body was  visible  inside.  "  Gentleman's  wife,  mayhap," 
he  said.  His  friends  indulged  in  their  privilege  of  think- 
ing what  they  liked,  and  there  was  the  usual  silence  of 
tongues  in  the  shop.  He  furnished  them  sound  and  mo- 
tion for  their  amusement,  and  now  and  then  a  scrap  of 
conversation  ;  and  the  sedater  spirits  dwelling  in  his  im- 
mediate neighbourhood  were  accustomed  to  step  in  and  see 
him  work  up  to  supper-time,  instead  of  resorting  to  the 
more  turbid  and  costly  excitement  of  the  public-house. 

Crickledon  looked  up  from  the  measurement  of  a  thumb- 
line.     In  the  doorway  stood  a  bearded  gentleman,  who 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH  77 

announced  himself  with  the  startling  exclamation,  "Here's 
a  pretty  pickle !  "  and  bustled  to  make  way  for  a  man 
well  known  to  them  as  Ned  Crummins,  the  upholsterer's 
man,  on  whose  back  hung  an  article  of  furniture,  the  con- 
dition of  which,  with  a  condensed  brevity  of  humour 
worthy  of  literary  admiration,  he  displayed  by  mutely 
turning  himself  about  as  he  entered. 

"  Smashed  !  "  was  the  general  outcry. 

"I  ran  slap  into  him,"  said  the  gentleman.  "Who  the 
deuce !  —  no  bones  broken,  that 's  one  thing.  The  fellow 
.  .  .  there,  look  at  him  :  he 's  like  a  glass  tortoise." 

"It's  a  chiwal  glass,"  Crickledon  remarked,  and  laid 
finger  on  the  star  in  the  centre. 

"  Gentleman  ran  slap  into  me,"  said  Crummins,  deposit- 
ing the  frame  on  the  floor  of  the  shop. 

"Never  had  such  a  shock  in  my  life,"  continued  the 
gentleman.  "  Upon  my  soul,  I  took  him  for  a  door :  I  did 
indeed.  A  kind  of  light  flashed  from  one  of  your  houses 
here,  and  in  the  pitch  dark  I  thought  I  was  at  the  door 
of  old  Mart  Tinman's  house,  and  dash  me  if  I  did  n't  go 
in  —  crash  !  But  what  the  deuce  do  you  do,  carrying  that 
great  big  looking-glass  at  night,  man  ?  And,  look  here  : 
tell  me ;  how  was  it  you  happened  to  be  going  glass  fore- 
most when  you  'd  got  the  glass  on  your  back  ?  " 

"Well,  't  ain't  my  fault,  I  knows  that,"  rejoined  Crum- 
mins. "I  came  along  as  careful  as  a  man  could.  I  was 
just  going  to  bawl  out  to  Master  Tinman,  'I  knows  the 
way,  never  fear  me ' ;  for  I  thinks  I  hears  'n  call  from  his 
house,  '  Do  ye  see  the  way  ? '  and  into  me  this  gentleman 
runs  all  his  might,  and  smash  goes  the  glass.  It  was  just 
ten  steps  from  Master  Tinman's  gate,  and  that  careful,  I 
reckoned  every  foot  I  put  down,  that  I  was ;  I  knows  I 
did,  though." 

"  Why,  it  was  me  calling, '  I  'm  sure  I  can't  see  the  way.' 
You  heard  me,  you  donkey ! "  retorted  the  bearded  gentle- 
man. "  What  was  the  good  of  your  turning  that  glass 
against  me  in  the  very  nick  when  I  dashed  on  you  ?  " 

"  Well, 't ain't  my  fault,  I  swear,"  said  Crummins.  "The 
wind  catches  voices  so  on  a  pitch  dark  night,  you  never  can 
tell  whether  they  be  on  one  shoulder  or  the  other.  And  if 
I  'm  to  go  and  lose  my  place  through  no  fault  of  mine " 


78  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

"  Have  n't  I  told  you,  sir,  I  'm  going  to  pay  the  damage  ? 
Here,"  said  the  gentleman,  fumbling  at  his  waistcoat, 
"here,  take  this  card.     Read  it." 

For  the  first  time  during  the  scene  in  the  carpenter's 
shop,  a  certain  pomposity  swelled  the  gentleman's  tone. 
His  delivery  of  the  card  appeared  to  act  on  him  like  the 
flourish  of  a  trumpet  before  great  men. 

"Van  Diemen  Smith,"  he  proclaimed  himself  for  the 
assistance  of  Ned  Crummins  in  his  task ;  the  latter's  look 
of  sad  concern  on  receiving  the  card  seeming  to  declare  an 
unscholarly  conscience. 

An  anxious  feminine  voice  was  heard  close  beside  Mr. 
Van  Diemen  Smith. 

"  Oh,  papa,  has  there  been  an  accident  ?   Are  you  hurt  ?  " 

"  Not  a  bit,  Netty ;  not  a  bit.  Walked  into  a  big  look- 
ing-glass in  the  dark,  that 's  all.  A  matter  of  eight  or  ten 
pound,  and  that  won't  stump  us.  But  these  are  what  I 
call  queer  doings  in  Old  England,  when  you  can't  take  a 
step  in  the  dark  on  the  seashore  without  plunging  bang 
into  a  glass.  And  it  looks  like  bad  luck  to  my  visit  to  old 
Mart  Tinman.  Can  you,"  he  addressed  the  company,  "  tell 
me  of  a  clean,  wholesome  lodging-house  ?  I  was  thinking 
of  flinging  myself,  body  and  baggage,  on  your  mayor,  or 
whatever  he  is — my  old  schoolmate;  but  I  don't  so  much 
like  this  beginning.  A  couple  of  bed-rooms  and  sitting- 
room  ;  clean  sheets,  well  aired ;  good  food,  well  cooked ; 
payment  per  week  in  advance." 

The  pebble  dropped  into  deep  water  speaks  of  its  depth 
by  the  tardy  arrival  of  bubbles  on  the  surface,  and,  in  like 
manner,  the  very  simple  question  put  by  Mr.  Van  Diemen 
Smith  pursued  its  course  of  penetration  in  the  assembled 
mind  in  the  carpenter's  shop  for  a  considerable  period, 
with  no  sign  to  show  that  it  had  reached  the  bottom. 

"Surely,  papa,  we  can  go  to  an  inn?  There  must  be 
some  hotel,"  said  his  daughter. 

"There's  good  accommodation  at  the  Cliff  Hotel  hard 
by,"  said  Crickledon. 

"  But,"  said  one  of  his  friends,  "  if  you  don't  want  to 
go  so  far,  sir,  there 's  Master  Crickledon's  own  house  next 
door,  and  his  wife  lets  lodgings,  and  there  's  not  a  better 
cook  along  this  coast." 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH  79 

"  Then  why  did  n't  the  man  mention  it?  Is  he  afraid 
of  having  me?"  asked  Mr.  Smith,  a  little  thunderingly. 
"  I  may  n't  be  known  much  yet  in  England  ;  but  I  '11  tell 
you,  you  inquire  the  route  to  Mr.  Van  Diemen  Smith  over 
there  in  Australia " 

"Yes,  papa,"  interrupted  his  daughter,  "  only  you  must 
consider  that  it  may  not  be  convenient  to  take  us  in  at 
this  hour  —  so  late." 

"It's  not  that,  miss,  begging  your  pardon,"  said  Crickle- 
don.  "I  make  a  point  of  never  recommending  my  own  house. 
That's  where  it  is.     Otherwise  you're  welcome  to  try  us." 

"  I  ivas  thinking  of  falling  bounce  on  my  old  schoolmate, 
and  putting  Old  English  hospitality  to  the  proof,"  Mr. 
Smith  meditated.  "But  it's  late.  Yes,  and  that  con- 
founded glass  !  No,  we  '11  bide  with  you,  Mr.  Carpenter. 
I  '11  send  my  card  across  to  Mart  Tinman  to-morrow,  and 
set  him  agog  at  his  breakfast." 

Mr.  Van  Diemen  Smith  waved  his  hand  for  Crickledon 
to  lead  the  way. 

Hereupon  Ned  Crummins  looked  up  from  the  card  he 
had  been  turning  over  and  over,  more  and  more  like  one 
arriving  at  a  condemnatory  judgment  of  a  fish. 

"  I  can't  go  and  gi'e  my  master  a  card  instead  of  his 
glass,"  he  remarked. 

"  Yes,  that  reminds  me ;  and  I  should  like  to  know 
what  you  meant  by  bringing  that  glass  away  from  Mr.  Tin- 
man's house  at  night,"  said  Mr.  Smith.  "  If  I'm  to  pay 
for  it,  I  've  a  right  to  know.  What 's  the  meaning  of  mov- 
ing it  at  night?  Eh,  let's  hear.  Night's  not  the  time 
for  moving  big  glasses  like  that.  I  'm  not  so  sure  I  have  n't 
got  a  case." 

"  If  you  '11  step  round  to  my  master  along  o'  me,  sir," 
said  Crummins,  "  perhaps  he'll  explain." 

Crummins  was  requested  to  state  who  his  master  was, 
and  he  replied,  "  Phippun  and  Company  ;  "  but  Mr.  Smith 
positively  refused  to  go  with  him. 

"But  here,"  said  he,  "is  a  crown  for  you,  for  you're  a 
civil  fellow.  You  '11  know  where  to  find  me  in  the  morn- 
ing ;  and  mind,  I  shall  expect  Phippun  and  Company  to 
give  me  a  very  good  account  of  their  reason  for  moving  a 
big  looking-glass  on  a  night  like  this.     There,  be  off." 


80  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

The  crown-piece  in  his  hand  effected  a  genial  change  in 
Crummins'  disposition  to  communicate.  Crickledon  spoke 
to  him  about  the  glass  ;  two  or  three  of  the  others  present 
jogged  him.  "  What  did  Mr.  Tinman  want  by  having  the 
glass  moved  so  late  in  the  day,  Ned  ?  Your  master  was  n't 
nervous  about  his  property,  was  he  ?  " 

"  Not  he,"  said  Crummins,  and  began  to  suck  down  his 
upper  lip  and  agitate  his  eyelids  and  stand  uneasily,  glim- 
mering signs  of  the  setting  in  of  the  tide  of  narration. 

He  caught  the  eye  of  Mr.  Smith,  then  looked  abashed 
at  Miss. 

Crickledon  saw  his  dilemma.  "  Say  what 's  uppermost, 
Ned;  never  mind  how  you  says  it.  English  is  English. 
Mr.  Tinman  sent  for  you  to  take  the  glass  away,  now, 
did  n't  he  ?  " 

"  He  did/'  said  Crummins. 

"  And  you  went  to  him." 

«  Ay,  that  I  did." 

"  And  he  fastened  the  chiwal  glass  upon  your  back." 

"  He  did  that." 

"  That 's  all  plain  sailing.     Had  he  bought  the  glass  ?  " 

"  No,  he  had  n't  bought  it.     He  'd  hired  it." 

As  when  upon  an  enforced  visit  to  the  dentist,  people 
have  had  one  tooth  out,  the  remaining  offenders  are  more 
willingly  submitted  to  the  operation,  insomuch  that  a  poeti- 
cal licence  might  hazard  the  statement  that  they  shed  them 
like  leaves  of  the  tree,  so  Crummins,  who  had  shrunk  from 
speech,  now  volunteered  whole  sentences  in  succession,  and 
how  important  they  were  deemed  by  his  fellow-townsman, 
Mr.  Smith,  and  especially  Miss  Annette  Smith,  could  per- 
ceive in  their  ejaculations,  before  they  themselves  were 
drawn  into  the  strong  current  of  interest. 

And  this  was  the  matter  :  Tinman  had  hired  the  glass 
for  three  days.  Latish,  on  the  very  first  day  of  the  hiring, 
close  upon  dark,  he  had  despatched  imperative  orders  to 
Phippun  and  Company  to  take  the  glass  out  of  his  house 
on  the  spot.  And  why  ?  Because,  as  he  maintained,  there 
was  a  fault  in  the  glass  causing  an  incongruous  and  absurd 
reflection  ;  and  he  was  at  that  moment  awaiting  the  arrival 
of  another  cheval-glass. 

"  Cut  along,  Ned,"  said  Crickledon. 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH  81 

"  What  the  deuce  does  he  want  with  a  cheval-glass  at 
all?"  cried  Mr.  Smith,  endangering  the  flow  of  the  story 
by  suggesting  to  the  narrator  that  he  must  "  hark  back," 
which  to  him  was  equivalent  to  the  jumping  of  a  chasm 
hind  ward.     Happily  his  brain  had  seized  a  picture  : 

"Mr.  Tinman,  he's  a-standin'  in  his  best  Court  suit." 

Mr.  Tinman's  old  schoolmate  gave  a  jump;  and  no 
wonder. 

"  Standing  ?  "  he  cried  ;  and  as  the  act  of  standing  was 
really  not  extraordinary,  he  fixed  upon  the  suit :  "  Court  ?  " 

"  So  Mrs.  Cavely  told  me,  it  was  what  he  was  standin' 
in,  and  as  I  found  'n  I  left  'n,"  said  Crummins. 

"  He  's  standing  in  it  now  ?  "  said  Mr.  Van  Diemen  Smith, 
with  a  great  gape. 

Crummins  doggedly  repeated  the  statement.  Many 
would  have  ornamented  it  in  the  repetition,  but  he  was 
for  bare  flat  truth. 

"He  must  be  precious  proud  of  having  a  Court  suit," 
said  Mr.  Smith,  and  gazed  at  his  daughter  so  glassily  that 
she  smiled,  though  she  was  impatient  to  proceed  to  Mrs. 
Crickledon's  lodgings. 

"Oh!  there's  where  it  is?"  interjected  the  carpenter, 
with  a  funny  frown  at  a  low  word  from  Ned  Crummins. 
"  Practicing,  is  he  ?  Mr.  Tinman 's  practicing  before  the 
glass  preparatory  to  his  going  to  the  palace  in  London." 

"  He  gave  me  a  shillin',"  said  Crummins. 

Crickledon  comprehended  him  immediately.  "We 
sha'n't  speak  about  it,  Ned." 

What  did  you  see  ?  was  thus  cautiously  suggested. 

The  shilling  was  on  Crummins'  tongue  to  check  his 
betrayal  of  the  secret  scene.  But  remembering  that  he  had 
only  witnessed  it  by  accident,  and  that  Mr.  Tinman  had 
not  completely  taken  him  into  his  confidence,  he  thrust  his 
hand  down  his  pocket  to  finger  the  crown-piece  lying  in 
fellowship  with  the  coin  it  multiplied  five  times,  and  was 
inspired  to  think  himself  at  liberty  to  say :  "  All  I  saw 
was  when  the  door  opened.  Not  the  house-door.  It  was 
the  parlour-door.  I  saw  him  walk  up  to  the  glass,  and 
walk  back  from  the  glass.  And  when  he  'd  got  up  to  jhe 
glass  he  bowed,  he  did,  and  he  went  back'ards  just  so." 

Doubtless  the  presence  of  a  lady  was  the  active  agent 


82  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

that  prevented  Crummins  from  doubling  his  body  entirely, 
and  giving  more  than  a  rapid  indication  of  the  posture  of 
Mr.  Tinman  in  his  retreat  before  the  glass.  But  it  was  a 
glimpse  of  broad  burlesque,  and  though  it  was  received 
with  becoming  sobriety  by  the  men  in  the  carpenter's  shop, 
Annette  plucked  at  her  father's  arm. 

She  could  not  get  him  to  depart.  That  picture  of  his 
old  schoolmate  Martin  Tinman  practicing  before  a  cheval- 
glass  to  present  himself  at  the  palace  in  his  Court  suit, 
seemed  to  stupefy  his  Australian  intelligence. 

"  What  right  has  he  got  to  go  to  Court  ? "  Mr.  Van 
Diemen  Smith  inquired,  like  the  foreigner  he  had  become 
through  exile. 

"  Mr.  Tinman 's  bailiff  of  the  town,"  said  Crickledon. 
"And  what  was  his  objection  to  that  glass  I  smashed?  " 
"  He  's  rather  an  irritable  gentleman,"  Crickledon  mur- 
mured, and  turned  to  Crummins. 

Crummins  growled :  "  He  said  it  was  misty,  and  gave 
him  a  twist." 

"  What  a  big  fool  he  must  be  !  eh  ?  "  Mr.  Smith  glanced 
at  Crickledon  and  the  other  faces  for  the  verdict  of  Tin- 
man's townsmen  upon  his  character. 

They  had  grounds  for  thinking  differently  of  Tinman. 
"  He 's  no  fool,"  said  Crickledon. 
Another  shook  his  head.     "  Sharp  at  a  bargain." 
"  That  he  be,"  said  the  chorus. 

Mr.  Smith  was  informed  that  Mr.  Tinman  would  prob- 
ably end  by  buying  up  half  the  town. 

"  Then,"  said  Mr.  Smith,  "  he  can  afford  to  pay  half  the 
money  for  that  glass,  and  pay  he  shall." 

A  serious  view  of  the  recent  catastrophe  was  presented 
by  his  declaration. 

In  the  midst  of  a  colloquy  regarding  the  cost  of  the 
glass,  during  which  it  began  to  be  seen  by  Mr.  Tinman's 
townsmen  that  there  was  laughing-stuff  for  a  year  or  so  in 
the  scene  witnessed  by  Crummins,  if  they  postponed  a  bit 
their  right  to  the  laugh  and  took  it  in  doses,  Annette  induced 
her  father  to  signal  to  Crickledon  his  readiness  to  go  and 
see  the  lodgings.  No  sooner  had  he  done  it  than  he  said, 
"  What  on  earth  made  us  wait  all  this  time  here  ?  I'm 
hungry,  my  dear ;  I  want  supper." 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH  83 

"That  is  because  you  have  had  a  disappointment.  1 
know  you,  papa,"  said  Annette. 

"Yes,  it's  rather  a  damper  about  old  Mart  Tinman," 
her  father  assented.  "  Or  else  I  have  n't  recovered  the 
shock  of  smashing  that  glass,  and  visit  it  on  him.  ]>ut, 
upon  my  honour,  he  's  my  only  friend  in  England,  I  have  n't 
a  single  relative  that  I  know  of,  and  to  come  and  find  your 
only  friend  making  a  donkey  of  himself,  is  enough  to  make 
a  man  think  of  eating  and  drinking." 

Annette  murmured  reproachfully:  "We  can  hardly  say 
he  is  our  only  friend  in  England,  papa,  can  we  ?  " 

"Do  you  mean  that  young  fellow?  You'll  take  my 
appetite  away  if  you  talk  of  him.  He's  a  stranger.  I 
don't  believe  he  's  worth  a  penny.  He  owns  he  's  what 
he  calls  a  journalist." 

These  latter  remarks  were  hurriedly  exchanged  at  the 
threshold  of  Crickledon's  house. 

"  It  don't  look  promising,"  said  Mr.  Smith. 

"I  didn't  recommend  it,"  said  Crickledon. 

"Why  the  deuce  do  you  let  your  lodgings,  then  ?  " 

"  People  who  have  come  once  come  again." 

"  Oh !  I  am  in  England,"  Annette  sighed  joyfully,  feel- 
ing at  home  in  some  trait  she  had  detected  in  Crickledon. 


CHAPTER  III 


The  story  of  the  shattered  cheval-glass  and  the  visit  of 
Tinman's  old  schoolmate  fresh  from  Australia,  was  at 
many  a  breakfast-table  before  Tinman  heard  a  word  of  it, 
and  when  he  did  he  had  no  time  to  spare  for  such  inci- 
dents, for  he  was  reading  to  his  widowed  sister  Martha,  in 
an  impressive  tone,  at  a  tolerably  high  pitch  of  the  voice, 
and  with  a  suppressed  excitement  that  shook  away  all 
things  external  from  his  mind  as  violently  as  it  agitated 
his  body.  Not  the  waves  without  but  the  engine  within  it 
is  which  gives  the  shock  and  tremor  to  the  crazy  steamer, 
forcing  it  to  cut  through  the  waves  and  scatter  them  to 
spray ;  and  so  did  Martin  Tinman  make  light  of  the  ex- 


84  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

ternal  attack  of  the  card  of  Van  Diemen  Smith,  and 
its  pencilled  line:  "An  old  chum,  of  yours,  eh,  matey?" 
Even  the  communication  of  Phippun  &  Co.  concerning  the 
cheval-glass,  failed  to  divert  him  from  his  particular  task. 
It  was  indeed  a  public  duty ;  and  the  cheval-glass,  though 
pertaining  to  it,  was  a  private  business.  He  that  has 
broken  the  glass,  let  that  man  pay  for  it,  he  pronounced  : 
ao  doubt  in  simpler  fashion,  being  at  his  ease  in  his  home, 
but  with  the  serenity  of  one  uplifted.  As  to  the  name 
Van  Diemen  Smith,  he  knew  it  not,  and  so  he  said  to 
himself  while  accurately  recollecting  the  identity  of  the  old 
chum  who  alone  of  men  would  have  thought  of  writing : 
eh,  matey? 

Mr.  Van  Diemen  Smith  did  not  present  the  card  in 
person.  "At  Crickledon's,"  he  wrote,  apparently  expecting 
the  bailiff  of  the  town  to  rush  over  to  him  before  knowing 
who  he  was. 

Tinman  was  far  too  busy.  Anybody  can  read  plain  pen- 
manship or  print,  but  ask  anybody  not  a  Cabinet  Minister 
or  a  Lord-in- Waiting  to  read  out  loud  and  clear  in  a  Palace, 
before  a  Throne.  Oh  !  the  nature  of  reading  is  distorted 
in  a  trice,  and  as  Tinman  said  to  his  worthy  sister:  "I 
can  do  it,  but  I  must  lose  no  time  in  preparing  myself." 
Again,  at  a  reperusal,  he  informed  her :  "  I  must  habitu- 
ate myself."  For  this  purpose  he  had  put  on  the  suit 
overnight. 

The  articulation  of  faultless  English  was  his  object. 
His  sister  Martha  sat  vice-regally  to  receive  his  loyal 
3ongratulations  on  the  illustrious  marriage,  and  she  was 
pensive,  less  nervous  than  her  brother  from  not  having  to 
speak  continuously,  yet  somewhat  perturbed.  She  also 
had  her  task,  and  it  was  to  avoid  thinking  herself  the 
Person  addressed  by  her  suppliant  brother,  while  at  the 
same  time  she  took  possession  of  the  scholarly  training 
and  perfect  knowledge  of  diction  and  rules  of  pronuncia- 
tion which  would  infallibly  be  brought  to  bear  on  him  in 
the  terrible  hour  of  the  delivery  of  the  Address.  It  was 
no  small  task  moreover  to  be  compelled  to  listen  right 
through  to  the  end  of  the  Address,  before  the  very  gentlest 
word  of  criticism  was  allowed.  She  did  not  exactly  com- 
plain of  the  renewal  of  the  rehearsal :  a  fatigue  can  be 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH  85 

endured  when  it  is  a  joy.  What  vexed  her  was  her  failing 
memory  for  the  points  of  objection,  as  in  her  imagined 
High  Seat  she  conceived  them ;  for,  in  painful  truth,  the 
instant  her  brother  had  finished  she  entirely  lost  her  acute- 
ness  of  ear,  and  with  that  her  recollection :  so  there  was 
nothing  to  do  but  to  say  :  "Excellent!  Quite  unobjection- 
able, dear  Martin,  cpiite : "  so  she  said,  and  emphatically ; 
but  the  addition  of  the  word  "  only "  was  printed  on  her 
contracted  brow,  and  every  faculty  of  Tinman's  mind  and 
nature  being  at  strain  just  then,  he  asked  her  testily : 
"What  now?  what's  the  fault  now?"  She  assured  him 
with  languor  that  there  was  not  a  fault.  "  It 's  not  your 
way  of  talking,"  said  he,  and  what  he  said  was  true. 
His  discernment  was  extraordinary ;  generally  he  noticed 
nothing. 

Not  only  were  his  perceptions  quickened  by  the  prepara- 
tions for  the  day  of  great  splendour :  day  of  a  great  furnace 
to  be  passed  through  likewise  !  —  he  was  learning  English 
at  an  astonishing  rate  into  the  bargain.  A  pronouncing 
Dictionary  lay  open  on  his  table.  To  this  he  flew  at  a 
hint  of  a  contrary  method,  and  disputes,  verifications  and 
triumphs  on  one  side  and  the  other  ensued  between  brother 
and  sister.  In  his  heart  the  agitated  man  believed  his 
sister  to  be  a  misleading  guide.  He  dared  not  say  it,  he 
thought  it,  and  previous  to  his  African  travel  through  the 
Dictionary  he  had  thought  his  sister  infallible  on  these 
points.  He  dared  not  say  it,  because  he  knew  no  one  else 
before  whom  he  could  practice,  and  as  it  was  confidence 
that  he  chiefly  wanted  —  above  all  things,  confidence  — 
and  confidence  comes  of  practice,  he  preferred  the  going  on 
with  his  practice  to  an  absolute  certainty  as  to  correctness. 

At  midday  came  another  card  from  Mr.  Van  Diemen 
Smith  bearing  the  superscription :   alias  Phil  R. 

"  Can  it  be  possible,"  Tinman  asked  his  sister,  "  that 
l'hilip  Ribstone  has  had  the  audacity  to  return  to  this 
country  ?  I  think,"  he  added,  "  I  am  right  in  treating 
whoever  sends  me  this  card  as  a  counterfeit." 

Martha's  advice  was,  that  he  should  take  no  notice  of 
the  card. 

"  I  am  seriously  engaged,"  said  Tinman.  With  a  "  Now,, 
then,  dear,"  he  resumed  his  labours. 


86  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

Messages  had  passed  between  Tinman  and  Phippun; 
and  in  the  afternoon  Phippun  appeared  to  broach  the 
question  of  payment  for  the  cheval-glass.  He  had  seen 
Mr.  Van  Diemen  Smith,  had  found  him  very  strange,  rather 
impracticable.  He  was  obliged  to  tell  Tinman  that  he 
must  hold  him  responsible  for  the  glass ;  nor  could  he  send 
a  second  until  payment  was  made  for  the  first.  It  really 
seemed  as  if  Tinman  would  be  compelled,  by  the  force  of 
circumstances,  to  go  and  shake  his  old  friend  by  the  hand. 
Otherwise  one  could  clearly  see  the  man  might  be  off :  he 
might  be  off  at  any  minute,  leaving  a  legal  contention 
behind  him.  On  the  other  hand,  supposing  he  had  come 
to  Crikswich  for  assistance  in  money  ?  Friendship  is  a 
good  thing,  and  so  is  hospitality,  which  is  an  essentially 
English  thing,  and  consequently  one  that  it  behoves  an 
Englishman  to  think  it  his  duty  to  perform,  but  we  do  not 
extend  it  to  paupers.  But  should  a  pauper  get  so  close  to 
us  as  to  lay  hold  of  us,  vowing  he  was  once  our  friend, 
how  shake  him  loose  ?  Tinman  foresaw  that  it  might  be 
a  matter  of  five  pounds  thrown  to  the  dogs,  perhaps  ten, 
counting  the  glass.  He  put  on  his  hat,  full  of  melancholy 
presentiments ;  and  it  was  exactly  half-past  five  o'clock  of 
the  spring  afternoon  when  he  knocked  at  Crickledon's  door. 

Had  he  looked  into  Crickledon's  shop  as  he  went  by,  he 
would  have  perceived  Van  Diemen  Smith  astride  a  piece 
of  timber,  smoking  a  pipe.  Van  Diemen  saw  Tinman. 
His  eyes  cocked  and  watered.  It  is  a  disgraceful  fact  to 
record  of  him  without  periphrasis.  In  truth,  the  bearded 
fellow  was  almost  a  woman  at  heart,  and  had  come  from 
the  Antipodes  throbbing  to  slap  Martin  Tinman  on  the 
back,  squeeze  his  hand,  run  over  England  with  him,  treat 
him,  and  talk  of  old  times  in  the  presence  of  a  trotting 
regiment  of  champagne.  That  affair  of  the  cheval-glass 
had  temporarily  damped  his  enthusiasm.  The  absence  of 
a  reply  to  his  double  transmission  of  cards  had  wounded 
him ;  and  something  in  the  look  of  Tinman  disgusted  his 
rough  taste.  But  the  well-known  features  recalled  the  days 
of  youth.  Tinman  was  his  one  living  link  to  the  country 
he  admired  as  the  conqueror  of  the  world,  and  imagina- 
tively delighted  in  as  the  seat  of  pleasures,  and  he  could 
not  discard  the  feeling  of  some  love  for  Tinman  without 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH  87 

losing  his  grasp  of  the  reason  why  he  had  longed  so  fer- 
vently and  travelled  so  breathlessly  to  return  hither.  In 
the  days  of  their  youth,  Van  Diemen  had  been  Tinman's 
cordial  spirit,  at  whom  he  sipped  for  cheerful  visions  of 
life,  and  a  good  honest  glow  of  emotion  now  and  then. 
Whether  it  was  odd  or  not  that  the  sipper  should  be  obliv- 
ious, and  the  cordial  spirit  heartily  reminiscent  of  those 
times,  we  will  not  stay  to  inquire. 

Their  meeting  took  place  in  Crickledon's  shop.  Tinman 
was  led  in  by  Mrs.  Crickledon.  His  voice  made  a  sound  of 
metal  in  his  throat,  and  his  air  was  that  of  a  man  buttoned 
up  to  the  palate,  as  he  read  from  the  card,  glancing  over 
his  eyelids,  "A  —  Mr.  Van  Diemen  Smith,  I  believe." 

"  Phil  Ribstone,  if  you  like,"   said  the  other,  without 


rising. 


"  Oh,  ah,  indeed  !  "  Tinman  temperately  coughed. 

"  Yes,  dear  me.     So  it  is.     It  strikes  you  as  odd  ?  " 

"The  change  of  name,"  said  Tinman. 

"  Not  nature,  though  !  " 

"  Ah  !     Have  you  been  long  in  England  ?  " 

"  Time  to  run  to  Helmstone,  and  on  here.  You  've  been 
lucky  in  business,  I  hear." 

"  Thank  you ;  as  things  go.  Do  you  think  of  remaining 
in  England  ?  " 

"  I  've  got  to  settle  about  a  glass  I  broke  last  night." 

"Ah  !  I  have  heard  of  it.  Yes,  I  fear  there  will  have  to 
be  a  settlement." 

"  I  shall  pay  half  of  the  damage.  You  '11  have  to  stump 
up  your  part." 

Van  Diemen  smiled  roguishly. 

"  We  must  discuss  that,"  said  Tinman,  smiling  too,  as  a 
patient  in  bed  may  smile  at  a  doctor's  joke ;  for  he  was,  as 
Crickledon  had  said  of  him,  no  fool  on  practical  points,  and 
Van  Diemen's  mention  of  the  half-payment  reassured  him 
as  to  his  old  friend's  position  in  the  world,  and  softly  thawed 
him.     "  Will  you  dine  with  me  to-day  ?  " 

"  I  don't  mind  if  I  do.  I  've  a  girl.  You  remember 
little  Netty  ?  She 's  walking  out  on  the  beach  with  a 
young  fellow  named  Fellingham,  whose  acquaintance  we 
made  on  the  voyage,  and  has  n't  left  us  long  to  ourselves. 
Will  you  have  her  as  well  ?    And  I  suppose  you  must  ask 


88  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

hiin.     He's  a  newspaper  man;  been  round  the  world;  seen 
a  lot." 

Tinman  hesitated.  An  electrical  idea  of  putting  sherry 
at  fifteen  shillings  per  dozen  on  his  table  instead  of  the 
ceremonial  wine  at  twenty-five  shillings,  assisted  him  to 
say  hospitably,  "  Oh  !  ah !  yes  ;  any  friend  of  yours." 

"And  now  perhaps  you'll  shake  my  fist,"  said  Van 
Diemen. 

"With  pleasure,"  said  Tinman.  "It  was  your  change  of 
name,  you  know,  Philip." 

"  Look  here,  Martin.  Van  Diemen  Smith  was  a  convict, 
and  my  benefactor.  Why  the  deuce  he  was  so  fond  of  that 
name,  I  can't  tell  you;  but  his  dying  wish  was  for  me  to 
take  it  and  carry  it  on.  He  left  me  his  fortune,  for  Van 
Diemen  Smith  to  enjoy  life,  as  he  never  did,  poor  fellow, 
when  he  was  alive.  The  money  was  got  honestly,  by  hard 
labour  at  a  store.  He  did  evil  once,  and  repented  after. 
But,  by  Heaven!"  —  Van  Diemen  jumped  up  and  thun- 
dered out  of  a  broad  chest  —  "  the  man  was  one  of  the 
finest  hearts  that  ever  beat.  He  was !  and  I  'm  proud  of 
him.  When  he  died,  I  turned  my  thoughts  home  to  Old 
England  and  you,  Martin." 

"  Oh ! "  said  Tinman ;  and  reminded  by  Van  Diemen's 
way  of  speaking,  that  cordiality  was  expected  of  him,  he 
shook  his  limbs  to  some  briskness,  and  continued,  "  Well,  - 
yes,  we  must  all  die  in  our  native  land  if  we  can.     I  hope 
you're  comfortable  in  your  lodgings  ?" 

"  I  '11  give  you  one  of  Mrs.  Crickledon's  dinners  to  try. 
You're  as  good  as  mayor  of  this  town,  I  hear  ?" 

"  I  am  the  bailiff  of  the  town,"  said  Mr.  Tinman. 

"You're  going  to  Court,  I  'm  told." 

"  The  appointment,"  replied  Mr.  Tinman,  "  will  soon  be 
made.     I  have  not  yet  an  appointed  day." 

On  the  great  highroad  of  life  there  is  Expectation,  and 
there  is  Attainment,  and  also  there  is  Envy.  Mr.  Tinman's 
posture  stood  for  Attainment  shadowing  Expectation,  and 
sunning  itself  in  the  glass  of  Envy,  as  he  spoke  of  the 
appointed  day.  It  was  involuntary,  and  naturally  evanes- 
cent, a  momentary  view  of  the  spirit. 

He  unbent,  and  begged  to  be  excused  for  the  present, 
that  he  might  go  and  apprise  his  sister  of  guests  coming. 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH  89 

"  All  right.  I  daresay  we  shall  see  enough  of  one  an- 
other," said  Van  Dienien.  And  almost  before  the  creak  of 
Tinman's  heels  was  deadened  on  the  road  outside  the  shop, 
he  put  the  funny  question  to  Crickledon,  "  Do  you  box  ?  " 

"I  make  'em,"  Crickledon  replied. 

"  Because  I  should  like  to  have  a  go  in  at  something,  my 
friend." 

Van  Die  men  stretched  and  yawned. 

Crickledon  recommended  the  taking  of  a  walk. 

"I  think  I  will,"  said  the  other,  and  turned  back 
abruptly.     "  How  long  do  you  work  in  the  day  ?  " 

"Generally,  all  the  hours  of  light,"  Crickledon  replied; 
"and  always  up  to  supper-time." 

"  You  're  healthy  and  happy  ?  " 

"Nothing  to  complain  of." 

"  Good  appetite  ?  " 

"Pretty  regular." 

"  You  never  take  a  holiday  ?  " 

"  Except  Sundays." 

"  You  'd  like  to  be  working  then  ?  " 

"  I  won't  say  that." 

"But  you're  glad  to  be  up  Monday  morning ?" 

"It  feels  cheerfuller  in  the  shop." 

"  And  carpentering 's  your  joy  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  may  say  so." 

Van  Diemen  slapped  his  thigh.  "  There  's  life  in  Old 
England  yet!" 

Crickledon  eyed  him  as  he  walked  away  to  the  beach  to 
look  for  his  daughter,  and  conceived  that  there  was  a  touch 
of  the  soldier  in  him. 


CHAPTEE  IV 


Annette  Smith's  delight  in  her  native  England  made  her 
see  beauty  and  kindness  everywhere  around  her ;  it  put  a 
halo  about  the  house  on  the  beach,  and  thrilled  her  at  Tin- 
man's table  when  she  heard  the  thunder  of  the  waves  hard 
by.  She  fancied  it  had  been  a  most  agreeable  dinner  to 
her  father  and  Mr.  Herbert  Fellingham  —  especially  to  the 


90  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

latter,  who  had  laughed  very  much ;  and  she  was  astonished 
to  hear  them  at  breakfast  both  complaining  of  their  even- 
ing. In  answer  to  which,  she  exclaimed,  "  Oh,  I  think  the 
situation  of  the  house  is  so  romantic  ! " 

"  The  situation  of  the  host  is  exceedingly  so,"  said  Mr. 
Fellingham;  "but  I  think  his  wine  the  most  unromantic 
liquid  I  have  ever  tasted." 

"It  must  be  that!"  cried  Van  Diemen,  puzzled  by  novel 
pains  in  the  head.  "  Old  Martin  woke  up  a  little  like  his 
old  self  after  dinner." 

"  He  drank  sparingly,"  said  Mr.  Fellingham. 
"I  am  sure  you  were  satirical  last  night,"  Annette  said 
reproachfully. 

"On  the  contrary,  I  told  him  I  thought  he  was  in  a 
romantic  situation." 

"  But  I  have  had  a  French  mademoiselle  for  my  govern- 
ess and  an  Oxford  gentleman  for  my  tutor ;  and  I  know 
you  accepted  French  and  English  from  Mr.  Tinman  and 
his  sister  that  I  should  not  have  approved." 

"Netty,"  said  Van  Diemen,  "has  had  the  best  instruction 
money  could  procure ;  and  if  she  says  you  were  satirical,  you 
may  depend  on  it  you  were." 

"  Oh,  in  that  case,  of  course ! "  Mr.  Fellingham  rejoined. 
"Who  could  help  it?" 

He  thought  himself  warranted  in  giving  the  rein  to  his 
wicked  satirical  spirit,  and  talked  lightly  of  the  accidental 
character  of  the  letter  H  in  Tinman's  pronunciation;  of 
how,  like  somebody  else's  hat  in  a  high  wind,  it  descended 
on  somebody  else's  head,  and  of  how  his  words  walked 
about  asking  one  another  who  they  were  and  what  they 
were  doing,  danced  together  madly,  snapping  their  fingers 
at  signification ;  and  so  forth.     He  was  flippant. 

Annette  glanced  at  her  father,  and  dropped  her  eyelids. 
Mr.  Fellingham  perceived  that  he  was  enjoined  to  be  on 
his  guard. 

He  went  one  step  farther  in  his  fun ;  upon  which  Van 
Diemen  said,  with  a  frown,  "  If  you  please  !  " 
Nothing  could  withstand  that. 

"Hang  old  Mart  Tinman's  wine  ! "  Van  Diemen  burst  out 
in  the  dead  pause.  " My  head 's  a  bullet.  I'm  in  a  shock- 
ing bad  temper.    I  can  hardly  see.    I  'm  bilious." 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH  91 

Mr.  Fellingham  counselled  his  lying  down  for  an  hour, 
and  he  went  grumbling,  complaining  of  Mart  Tinman's 
incredulity  about  the  towering  beauty  of  a  place  in  Aus- 
tralia called  Gippsland. 

Annette  confided  to  Mr.  Fellingham,  as  soon  as  they  were 
alone,  the  chivalrous  nature  of  her  father  in  his  friendships, 
and  his  indisposition  to  hear  a  satirical  remark  upon  his 
old  schoolmate,  the  moment  he  understood  it  to  be  satire. 

Fellingham  pleaded  :  "  The  man 's  a  perfect  burlesque. 
He  's  as  distinctly  made  to  be  laughed  at  as  a  mask  in  a 
pantomime." 

"Papa  will  not  think  so,"  said  Annette;  "and  papa  has 
been  told  that  he  is  not  to  be  laughed  at  as  a  man  of 
business." 

"  Do  you  prize  him  for  that  ?  " 

"I  am  no  judge.  I  am  too  happy  to  be  in  England  to  be 
a  judge  of  anything." 

"  You  did  not  touch  his  wine !  " 

"  You  men  attach  so  much  importance  to  wine  !  " 

"They  do  say  that  powders  is  a  good  thing  after  Mr. 
Tinman's  wine,"  observed  Mrs.  Crickledon,  who  had  come 
into  the  sitting-room  to  take  away  the  breakfast  things. 

Mr.  Fellingham  gave  a  peal  of  laughter;  but  Mrs. 
Crickledon  bade  him  be  hushed,  for  Mr.  Van  Diemen  Smith 
had  gone  to  lay  down  his  poor  aching  head  on  his  pillow. 
Annette  ran  upstairs  to  speak  to  her  father  about  a  doctor. 

During  her  absence,  Mr.  Fellingham  received  the  popular 
portrait  of  Mr.  Tinman  from  the  lips  of  Mrs.  Crickledon. 
He  subsequently  strolled  to  the  carpenter's  shop,  and  en- 
deavoured to  get  a  confirmation  of  it. 

"  My  wife  talks  too  much,"  said  Crickledon. 

When  questioned  by  a  gentleman,  however,  he  was  natu- 
rally bound  to  answer  to  the  extent  of  his  knowledge. 

"  What  a  funny  old  country  it  is  !"  Mr.  Fellingham  said 
to  Annette,  on  their  walk  to  the  beach. 

She  implored  him  not  to  laugh  at  anything  English. 

"I  don't,  I  assure  you,"  said  he.  "I  love  the  country, 
too.  But  when  one  comes  back  from  abroad,  and  plunges 
into  their  daily  life,  it 's  difficult  to  retain  the  real  figure  of 
the  old  country  seen  from  outside,  and  one  has  to  remember 
half  a  dozen  great  names  to  right  oneself.     And  English- 


92  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

men  are  so  funny!  Your  father  comes  here  to  see  his  old 
friend,  and  begins  boasting  of  the  Gippsland  he  has  left 
behind.  Tinman  immediately  brags  of  Helvellyn,  and  they 
fling  mountains  at  one  another  till,  on  their  first  evening 
together,  there 's  earthquake  and  rupture  —  they  were 
nearly  at  fisticuffs  at  one  time." 

"  Oh  !  surely  no,"  said  Annette.  "  I  did  not  hear  them. 
They  were  good  friends  when  you  came  to  the  drawing- 
room.  Perhaps  the  wine  did  affect  poor  papa,  if  it  was  bad 
wine.  I  wish  men  would  never  drink  any.  How  much 
happier  they  would  be." 

"But  then  there  would  cease  to  be  social  meetings  in 
England.     What  should  we  do?" 

"  I  know  that  is  a  sneer ;  and  you  were  nearly  as  enthu- 
siastic as  I  was  on  board  the  vessel,"  Annette  said,  sadly. 

"Quite  true.  I  was.  But  see  what  quaint  creatures  Ave 
have  about  us !  Tinman  practicing  in  his  Court  suit  before 
the  cheval-glass !  And  that  good  fellow,  the  carpenter, 
Crickledon,  who  has  lived  with  the  sea  fronting  him  all  his 
life,  and  has  never  been  in  a  boat,  and  he  confesses  he  has 
only  once  gone  inland,  and  has  never  seen  an  acorn  !" 

"I  wish  I  could  see  one  —  of  a  real  English  oak,"  said 
Annette. 

"  And  after  being  in  England  a  few  months  you  will  be 
sighing  for  the  Continent." 

"Never!" 

"  You  think  you  will  be  quite  contented  here  ?  " 

"  I  am  sure  I  shall  be.  May  papa  and  I  never  be  exiles 
again  !  I  did  not  feel  it  when  I  was  three  years  old,  going 
out  to  Australia ;  but  it  would  be  like  death  to  me  now. 
Oh !  "  Annette  shivered,  as  with  the  exile's  chill. 

"  On  my  honour,"  said  Mr.  Fellingham,  as  softly  as  he 
could  with  the  wind  in  his  teeth,  "  I  love  the  old  country 
ten  times  more  from  your  love  of  it." 

"That  is  not  how  I  want  England  to  be  loved,"  returned 
Annette. 

"  The  love  is  in  your  hands." 

She  seemed  indifferent  on  hearing  it. 

He  should  have  seen  that  the  way  to  woo  her  was  to 
hamour  her  prepossession  by  another  passion.  He  could 
feel  that  it  ennobled  her  in  the  abstract,  but  a  latent  spite 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH  93 

at  Tinman  on  account  of  his  wine,  to  which  he  continued 
angrily  to  attribute  an  unwonted  dizziness  of  the  head  and 
slight  irascibility,  made  him  urgent  in  his  desire  that  she 
should  separate  herself  from  Tinman  and  his  sister  by  the 
sharp  division  of  derision. 

Anuette  declined  to  laugh  at  the  most  risible  caricatures 
of  Tinman.  In  her  antagonism  she  forced  her  simplicity 
so  far  as  to  say  that  she  did  not  think  him  absurd.  And 
supposing  Mr.  Tinman  to  have  proposed  to  the  titled  widow, 
Lady  Ray,  as  she  had  heard,  and  to  other  ladies  young  and 
middle-aged  in  the  neighbourhood,  why  should  he  not,  if  he 
wished  to  marry  ?  If  he  was  economical,  surely  he  had  a 
right  to  manage  his  own  affairs.  Her  dread  was  lest  Mr. 
Tinman  and  her  father  should  quarrel  over  the  payment  for 
the  broken  cheval-glass :  that  she  honestly  admitted,  and 
Fellingham  was  so  indiscreet  as  to  roar  aloud,  not  so  very 
cordially. 

Annette  thought  him  unkindly  satirical ;  and  his  thoughts 
of  her  reduced  her  to  the  condition  of  a  commonplace  girl 
with  expressive  eyes. 

She  had  to  return  to  her  father.  Mr.  Fellingham  took  a 
walk  on  the  springy  turf  along  the  cliffs ;  and  "  certainly 
she  is  a  commonplace  girl,"  he  began  by  reflecting,  with  a 
side  eye  at  the  fact  that  his  meditations  were  excited  by 
Tinman's  poisoning  of  his  bile.  "A  girl  who  can't  see  the 
absurdity  of  Tinman  must  be  destitute  of  common  intelli- 
gence." After  a  while  he  sniffed  the  fine  sharp  air  of 
mingled  earth  and  sea  delightedly,  and  he  strode  back  to 
the  town  late  in  the  afternoon,  laughing  at  himself  in  scorn 
of  his  wretched  susceptibility  to  bilious  impressions,  and 
really  all  but  hating  Tinman  as  the  cause  of  his  weakness 
—  in  the  manner  of  the  criminal  hating  the  detective, 
perhaps.  He  cast  it  altogether  on  Tinman  that  Annette's 
complexion  of  character  had  become  discoloured  to  his 
mind;  for,  in  spite  of  the  physical  freshness  with  which 
he  returned  to  her  society,  he  was  incapable  of  throwing 
off  the  idea  of  her  being  commonplace;  and  it  was  with 
regret  that  he  acknowledged  he  had  gained  from  his  walk 
only  a  higher  opinion  of  himself. 

Her  father  was  the  victim  of  a  sick  headache,  and  lay, 
a  groaning  man,  on  his  bed,  ministered  to  by  Mrs.  Crickle' 


94  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

don  chiefly.  Annette  had  to  conduct  the  business  with 
Mr.  Phippun  and  Mr.  Tinman  as  to  payment  for  the 
cheval-glass.  She  was  commissioned  to  offer  half  the  price 
for  the  glass  on  her  father's  part;  more  he  would  not  pay. 
Tinman  and  Phippun  sat  with  her  in  Crickledon's  cottage, 
and  Mrs.  Crickledon  brought  down  two  messages  from  her 
invalid,  each  positive,  to  the  effect  that  he  would  fight  with 
all  the  arms  of  English  law  rather  than  yield  his  point. 

Tinman  declared  it  to  be  quite  out  of  the  question  that 
he  should  pay  a  penny.  Phippun  vowed  that  from  one  or 
the  other  of  them  he  would  have  the  money. 

Annette  naturally  was  in  deep  distress,  and  Pellingham 
postponed  the  discussion  to  the  morrow. 

Even  after  such  a  taste  of  Tinman  as  that,  Annette  could 
not  be  induced  to  join  in  deriding  him  privately.  She 
looked  pained  by  Mr.  Fellingham's  cruel  jests.  It  was 
monstrous,  Pellingham  considered,  that  he  should  draw  on 
himself  a  second  reprimand  from  Van  Diemen  Smith, 
while  they  were  consulting  in  entire  agreement  upon  the 
case  of  the  cheval-glass. 

"I  must  tell  you  this,  mister  sir,"  said  Van  Diemen,  "I 
like  you,  but  I  '11  be  straightforward  and  truthful,  or  I  'm 
not  worthy  the  name  of  Englishman;  and  I  do  like  you, 
or  I  should  n't  have  given  you  leave  to  come  down  here  after 
us  two.  You  must  respect  my  friend  if  you  care  for  my 
respect.  That 's  it.  There  it  is.  Now  you  know  my 
conditions." 

"I  'm  afraid  I  can't  sign  the  treaty,"  said  Fellingham. 

"Here  's  more,"  said  Van  Diemen.  "I  'm  a  chilly  man 
myself  if  I  hear  a  laugh  and  think  I  know  the  aim  of  it. 
I  '11  meet  what  you  like  except  scorn.  I  can't  stand  con- 
tempt.    So  I  feel  for  another.     And  now  you  know." 

"  It  puts  a  stopper  on  the  play  of  fancy,  and  checks  the 
throwing  off  of  steam,"  Fellingham  remonstrated.  "I 
promise  to  do  my  best,  but  of  all  the  men  I  've  ever  met  in 
my  life  —  Tinman! — the  ridiculous!  Pray  pardon  me; 
but  the  donkey  and  his  looking-glass!  The  glass  was 
misty !  He  —  as  particular  about  his  reflection  in  the  glass 
as  a  poet  with  his  verses!  Advance,  retire,  bow;  and  such 
murder  of  the  Queen's  English  in  the  very  presence!  If 
I  thought  he  was  going  to  take  his  wine  with  him,  I  'd 
have  him  arrested  for  high  treason." 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH  95 

"You  've  chosen,  and  you  know  what  you  best  like,"  said 
Van  Diemen,  pointing  his  accents  —  by  which  is  produced 
the  awkward  pause,  the  pitfall  of  conversation,  and  some- 
times of  amity. 

Thus  it  happened  that  Mr.  Herbert  Fellingham  journeyed 
back  to  London  a  day  earlier  than  he  had  intended,  and 
without  saying  what  he  meant  to  say. 


CHAPTER  V 


A  month  later,  after  a  night  of  sharp  frost  on  the  verge  of 
the  warmer  days  of  spring,  Mr.  Fellingham  entered  Criks- 
wich  under  a  sky  of  perfect  blue  that  was  in  brilliant  har- 
mony with  the  green  downs,  the  white  cliffs  and  sparkling 
sea,  and  no  doubt  it  was  the  beauty  before  his  eyes  which 
persuaded  him  of  his  delusion  in  having  taken  Annette  for 
a  commonplace  girl.  He  had  come  in  a  merely  curious 
mood  to  discover  whether  she  was  one  or  not.  Who  but  a 
commonplace  girl  would  care  to  reside  in  Crikswich,  he 
had  asked  himself;  and  now  he  was  full  sure  that  no 
commonplace  girl  would  ever  have  had  the  idea.  Exqui- 
sitely simple,  she  certainly  was;  but  that  may  well  be  a 
distinction  in  a  young  lady  whose  eyes  are  expressive. 

The  sound  of  sawing  attracted  him  to  Crickledon's  shop, 
and  the  industrious  carpenter  soon  put  him  on  the  tide  of 
affairs. 

Crickledon  pointed  to  the  house  on  the  beach  as  the  place 
where  Mr.  Van  Diemen  Smith  and  his  daughter  were 
staying. 

"Dear  me!  and  how  does  he  look  ?  "  said  Fellingham. 

"Our  town  seems  to  agree  with  him,  sir." 

"Well,  I  must  not  say  any  more,  I  suppose."  Felling- 
ham checked  his  tongue.  "How  have  they  settled  that 
dispute  about  the  cheval-glass?" 

"Mr.  Tinman  had  to  give  way." 

"Really!" 

"But,"  Crickledon  stopped  work,  ■  Mr.  Tinman  sold  him 
a  meadow." 

"I  see." 


96  THE  HOUSE  OIS    THE  BEACfa 

"Mr.  Smith  has  been  buying  a  goodish  bit  of  ground 
here.  They  tell  me  he  's  about  purchasing  Elba.  He  has 
bought  the  Crouch.  He  and  Mr.  Tinman  are  always  out 
together.  They  're  over  at  Helmstone  now.  They  've 
been  to  London." 

"  Are  they  likely  to  be  back  to-day  ?  " 

"Certain,  I  should  think.  Mr.  Tinman  has  to  be  in 
London  to-morrow." 

Crickledon  looked.  He  was  not  the  man  to  look  artful, 
but  there  was  a  lighted  corner  in  his  look  that  revived 
Fellingham's  recollections,  and  the  latter  burst  out:  — 

"The  Address?  I  'd  half  forgotten  it.  That 's  not  over 
yet  ?     Has  he  been  practicing  much  ?  " 

"No  more  glasses  ha'  been  broken." 

"  And  how  is  your  wife,  Crickledon  ?  " 

"She  's  at  home,  sir,  ready  for  a  talk,  if  you  've  a  mind 
to  try  her." 

Mrs.  Crickledon  proved  to  be  very  ready.  "  That  Tin- 
man," was  her  theme.  He  had  taken  away  her  lodgers, 
and  she  knew  his  objects.  Mr.  Smith  repented  of  leaving 
her,  she  knew,  though  he  dared  not  say  it  in  plain  words. 
She  knew  Miss  Smith  was  tired  to  death  of  constant  com- 
panionship with  Mrs.  Cavely,  Tinman's  sister.  She  gener- 
ally came  once  in  the  day  just  to  escape  from  Mrs.  Cavely, 
who  would  not,  bless  you!  step  into  a  cottager's  house 
where  she  was  not  allowed  to  patronize.  Fortunately 
Miss  Smith  had  induced  her  father  to  get  his  own  wine 
from  the  merchants. 

"  A  happy  resolution, "  said  Fellingham;  "and  a  saving 
one." 

He  heard  further  that  Mr.  Smith  would  take  possession 
of  the  Crouch  next  month,  and  that  Mrs.  Cavely  hung 
over  Miss  Smith  like  a  kite. 

"And  that  old  Tinman,  old  enough  to  be  her  father!" 
said  Mrs.  Crickledon. 

She  dealt  in  the  flashes  which  connect  ideas.  Felling- 
ham,  though  a  man,  and  an  Englishman,  was  nervously 
wakeful  enough  to  see  the  connection. 

"They  '11  have  to  consult  the  young  lady  first,  ma'am." 

"If  it 's  her  father's  nod  she'll  bow  to  it;  now  mark  me," 
Mrs.  Crickledon  said,  with  emphasis.     "She's  a  young 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH  97 

lady  who  thinks  for  herself,  but  she  takes  her  start  from 
her  father  where  it 's  feeling.  And  he  ;s  gone  stone-blind 
over  that  Tinman." 

While  they  were  speaking,  Annette  appeared. 

"I  saw  you,"  she  said  to  Fellingham,  gladly  and  openly, 
in  the  most  commonplace  manner. 

"Are  you  going  to  give  me  a  walk  along  the  beach?" 
said  he. 

She  proposed  the  country  behind  the  town,  and  that  was 
quite  as  much  to  his  taste.  But  it  was  not  a  happy  walk. 
He  had  decided  that  he  admired  her,  and  the  notion  of 
having  Tinman  for  a  rival  annoyed  him.  He  overflowed 
with  ridicule  of  Tinman,  and  this  was  distressing  to 
Annette,  because  not  only  did  she  see  that  he  would  not 
control  himself  before  her  father,  but  he  kindled  her  own 
satirical  spirit  in  opposition  to  her  father's  friendly  senti- 
ments toward  his  old  schoolmate. 

"Mr.  Tinman  has  been  extremely  hospitable  to  us,"  she 
said,  a  little  coldly. 

"  May  I  ask  you,  has  he  consented  to  receive  instruction 
in  deportment  and  pronunciation  ?  " 

Annette  did  not  answer. 

"If  practice  makes  perfect,  he  must  be  near  the  mark  by 
this  time." 

She  continued  silent. 

"I  dare  say,  in  domestic  life,  he  's  as  amiable  as  he  is 
hospitable,  and  it  must  be  a  daily  gratification  to  see  him 
in  his  Court  suit." 

"I  have  not  seen  him  in  his  Court  suit." 

"That  is  his  coyness." 

"People  talk  of  those  things." 

"  The  common  people  scandalize  the  great,  about  whom 
they  know  nothing,  you  mean!  I  am  sure  that  is  true, 
and  living  in  Courts  one  must  be  keenly  aware  of  it.  But 
what  a  splendid  sky  and  sea ! " 

"Is  it  not?" 

Annette  echoed  his  false  rapture  with  a  candour  that 
melted  him. 

He  was  preparing  to  make  up  for  lost  time,  when  the 
wild  waving  of  a  parasol  down  a  road  to  the  right,  coming 
from  the  town,  caused  Annette  to  stop  and  say,  — 


98  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

"I  think  that  must  be  Mrs.  Cavely.  We  ought  to  meet 
her." 

Fellinghani  asked  why. 

"She  is  so  fond  of  walks,"  Annette  replied,  with  a  tooth 
on  her  lip. 

Fellingham  thought  she  seemed  fond  of  runs. 

Mrs.  Cavely  joined  them,  breathless.  "My  dear!  the 
pace  you  go  at!"  she  shouted.  "I  saw  you  starting.  I 
followed,  I  ran,  I  tore  along.  I  feared  I  never  should 
catch  you.  And  to  lose  such  a  morning  of  English  scenery ! 
Is  it  not  heavenly  ?  " 

"One  can't  say  more,"  Fellingham  observed,  bowing. 

"I  am  sure  I  am  very  glad  to  see  you  again,  sir.  You 
enjoy  Crikswich  ?  " 

"Once  visited,  always  desired,  like  Venice,  ma'am. 
May  I  venture  to  inquire  whether  Mr.  Tinman  has  pre- 
sented his  Address  ?  " 

"The  day  after  to-morrow.  The  appointment  is  made 
with  him,"  said  Mrs.  Cavely,  more  officially  in  manner, 
"for  the  day  after  to-morrow.  He  is  excited,  as  you  may 
well  believe.  But  Mr.  Smith  is  an  immense  relief  to  him 
—  the  very  distraction  he  wanted.  We  have  become  one 
family,  you  know." 

"Indeed,  ma'am,  I  did  not  know  it,"  said  Fellingham. 

The  communication  imparted  such  satiric  venom  to  his 
further  remarks,  that  Annette  resolved  to  break  her  walk 
and  dismiss  him  for  the  day. 

He  called  at  the  house  on  the  beach  after  the  dinner- 
hour,  to  see  Mr.  Van  Diemen  Smith,  when  there  was  liter- 
ally a  duel  between  him  and  Tinman;  for  Van  Diemen's 
contribution  to  the  table  was  champagne,  and  that  had  been 
drunk,  but  Tinman's  sherry  remained.  Tinman  would 
insist  on  Fellingham's  taking  a  glass.  Fellingham  parried 
him  with  a  sedate  gravity  of  irony  that  was  painfully  per- 
ceptible to  Annette.  Van  Diemen  at  last  backed  Tinman's 
hospitable  intent,  and,  to  Fellingham's  astonishment,  he 
found  that  he  had  been  supposed  by  these  two  men  to  be 
bashfully  retreating  from  a  seductive  offer  all  the  time  that 
his  tricks  of  fence  and  transpiercings  of  one  of  them  had 
been  marvels  of  skill. 

Tinman  pushed  the  glass  into  his  hand. 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH  99 

"You  have  spilt  some,"  said  Fellingham. 

"It  won't  hurt  the  carpet,"  said  Tinman. 

"Won't  it?"  Fellingham  gazed  at  the  carpet,  as  if 
expecting  a  name  to  arise. 

He  then  related  the  tale  of  the  magnanimous  Alexander 
drinking  off  the  potion,  in  scorn  of  the  slanderer,  to  show 
faith  in  his  friend. 

"  Alexander  —  Who  was  that  ?  "  said  Tinman,  foiled  in 
his  historical  recollections  by  the  absence  of  the  surname. 

"General  Alexander,"  said  Fellingham.  "Alexander 
Philipson,  or  he  declared  it  was  Joveson;  and  very  fond 
of  wine.     But  his  sherry  did  for  him  at  last." 

"Ah!  he  drank  too  much,  then,"  said  Tinman. 

"Of  his  own!" 

Annette  admonished  the  vindictive  young  gentleman  by 
saying,  "  How  long  do  you  stay  in  Crikswich,  Mr.  Felling- 
ham ?  " 

He  had  grossly  misconducted  himself.  But  an  adversary 
at  once  offensive  and  helpless  provokes  brutality.  Annette 
prudently  avoided  letting  her  father  understand  that  satire 
was  in  the  air;  and  neither  he  nor  Tinman  was  conscious 
of  it  exactly :  yet  both  shrank  within  themselves  under  the 
sensation  of  a  devilish  blast  blowing.  Fellingham  accom- 
panied them  and  certain  jurats  to  London  next  day. 

Yes,  if  you  like :  when  a  mayor  visits  Majesty,  it  is  an 
important  circumstance,  and  you  are  at  liberty  to  argue  at 
length  that  it  means  more  than  a  desire  on  his  part  to  show 
his  writing  power  and  his  reading  power:  it  is  full  of 
comfort  tc  flie  people,  as  an  exhibition  of  their  majesty 
likewise ;  and  it  is  aj  encouragement  to  men  to  strive  to 
become  mayors,  jailiffs,  or  prime  men  of  any  sort;  but  a 
stress  in  the  reporting  pf  it  —  the  making  it  appear  too 
important  a  circumstance  —  will  surely  breathe  the  intima- 
tion to  a  politically-minded  people  that  satire  is  in  the 
air,  and  however  dearly  they  cherish  the  privilege  of 
knocking  at  the  first  door  of  the  kingdom,  and  walking 
ceremoniously  in  to  read  their  writings,  they  will,  if  they 
are  not  in  one  of  their  moods  for  prostration,  laugh.  They 
will  laugh  at  the  report. 

All  the  greater  reason  is  it  that  we  should  not  indulge 
them  at  such  periods ;  and  I  say  woe 's  me  for  any  brother 


100  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

of  the  pen,  and  one  in  some  esteem,  who  dressed  the  report 
of  that  presentation  of  the  Address  of  congratulation  by 
Mr.  Bailiff  Tinman,  of  Crikswich!  Herbert  Fellingham 
wreaked  his  personal  spite  on  Tinman.  He  should  have 
bethought  him  that  it  involved  another  than  Tinman  — 
that  is  to  say,  an  office  —  which  the  fitful  beast  rejoices  to 
paw  and  play  with  contemptuously  now  and  then,  one  may 
think,  as  a  solace  to  his  pride,  and  an  indemnification  for 
those  caprices  of  abject  worship  so  strongly  recalling  the 
days  we  see  through  Mr.  Darwin's  glasses. 

He  should  not  have  written  the  report.  It  sent  a  titter 
over  England.  He  was  so  unwise  as  to  despatch  a  copy 
of  the  newspaper  containing  it  to  Van  Diemen  Smith. 
Van  Diemen  perused  it  with  satisfaction.  So  did  Tinman. 
Both  of  these  praised  the  able  young  writer.  But  they 
handed  the  paper  to  the  Coastguard  Lieutenant,  who  asked 
Tinman  how  he  liked  it;  and  visitors  were  beginning  to 
drop  in  to  Crikswich,  who  made  a  point  of  asking  for  a 
sight  of  the  chief  man ;  and  then  came  a  comic  publication, 
all  in  the  Republican  tone  of  the  time,  with  Man's  Dignity 
for  the  standpoint,  and  the  wheezy  laughter  residing  in  old 
puns  to  back  it,  in  eulogy  of  the  satiric  report  of  the  famous 
Address  of  congratulation  of  the  Bailiff  of  Crikswich. 

"Annette,"  Van  Diemen  said  to  his  daughter,  "you'll 
not  encourage  that  newspaper  fellow  to  come  down  here 
any  more.     He  had  his  warning." 


CHAPTER  VI 


One  of  the  most  difficult  lessons  for  spirited  young  men 
to  learn  is,  that  good  jokes  are  not  always  good  policy. 
They  have  to  be  paid  for,  like  good  dinners,  though  dinner 
and  joke  shall  seem  to  have  been  at  somebody  else's 
expense.  Young  Fellingham  was  treated  rudely  by  Van 
Diemen  Smith,  and  with  some  cold  reserve  by  Annette: 
in  consequence  of  which  he  thought  her  more  than  ever 
commonplace.  He  wrote  her  a  letter  of  playful  remon- 
strance, followed  by  one  that  appealed  to  her  sentiments. 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH         101 

But  she  replied  to  neither  of  them.  So  his  visits  to  Criks- 
wich  came  to  an  end. 

Shall  a  girl  who  has  no  appreciation  of  fun  affect  us  ? 

Her  expressive  eyes,  and  her  quaint  simplicity,  and  her 
enthusiasm  for  England,  haunted  Mr.  Fellingham;  being 
conjured  up  by  contrast  with  what  he  met  about  him.  But 
shall  a  girl  who  would  impose  upon  us  the  task  of  hold- 
ing in  our  laughter  at  Tinman  be  much  regretted  ?  There 
could  be  no  companionship  between  us,  Fellingham 
thought. 

On  an  excursion  to  the  English  Lakes  he  saw  the  name 
vf  Van  Diemen  Smith  in  a  visitors'  book,  and  changed  his 
.deas  on  the  subject  of  companionship.  Among  moun- 
tains, or  on  the  sea,  or  reading  history,  Annette  was  one  in 
a  thousand.  He  happened  to  be  at  a  public  ball  at  Helm- 
stone  in  the  Winter  season,  and  who  but  Annette  herself 
jame  whirling  before  him  on  the  arm  of  an  officer!  Fel- 
lingham did  not  miss  his  chance  of  talking  to  her.  She 
greeted  him  gaily,  and  speaking  with  the  excitement  of  the 
dance  upon  her,  appeared  a  stranger  to  the  serious  emotions 
he  was  willing  to  cherish.  She  had  been  to  the  Lakes 
and  to  Scotland.  Next  summer  she  was  going  to  Wales. 
All  her  experiences  were  delicious.  She  was  insatiable, 
7et  satisfied. 

"I  wish  I  had  been  with  you,"  said  Fellingham. 

"I  wish  you  had,"  said  she. 

Mrs.  Cavely  was  her  chaperon  at  the  ball,  and  he  was 
not  permitted  to  enjoy  a  lengthened  conversation  sitting 
with  Annette.  What  was  he  to  think  of  a  girl  who  could 
je  submissive  to  Mrs.  Cavely,  and  danced  with  any  number 
of  officers,  and  had  no  idea  save  of  running  incessantly 
over  England  in  the  pursuit  of  pleasure  ?  Her  tone  of 
saying,  "I  wish  you  had,"  was  that  of  the  most  ordinary 
of  wishes,  distinctly,  if  not  designedly  different  from  his 
own  melodious  depth. 

She  granted  him  one  waltz,  and  he  talked  of  her  father. 
Amid  his  whimsical  vagrancies  of  feeling  he  had  a  posi- 
tive liking  for  Van  Diemen,  and  he  sagaciously  said  so. 
Annette's  eyes  brightened.  "Then  why  do  you  never  go 
to  see  him?  He  has  bought  Elba.  We  move  into  the 
Hall  after  Christmas.     We  are  at  the  Crouch  at  present 


102  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

Papa  will  be  sure  to  make  you  welcome.     Do  you  not  know 
that  he  never  forgets  a  friend  or  breaks  a  friendship  ?  " 

"I  do,  and  I  love  him  for  it,"  said  Fellinghain. 

If  he  was  not  greatly  mistaken  a  gentle  pressure  on  the 
fingers  of  his  left  hand  rewarded  him. 

This  determined  him.  It  should  here  be  observed  that 
he  was  by  birth  the  superior  of  Annette's  parentage,  and 
such  is  the  sentiment  of  a  better  blood  that  the  flattery 
of  her  warm  touch  was  needed  for  him  to  overlook  the 
distinction. 

Two  of  his  visits  to  Crikswich  resulted  simply  in  inter- 
views and  conversations  with  Mrs.  Crickledon.  Van 
Diemen  and  his  daughter  were  in  London  with  Tinman 
and  Mrs.  Cavely,  purchasing  furniture  for  Elba  Hall. 
Mrs.  Crickledon  had  no  scruple  in  saying,  that  Mrs.  Cavely 
meant  her  brother  to  inhabit  the  Hall,  though  Mr.  Smith 
had  outbid  him  in  the  purchase.  According  to  her,  Tinman 
and  Mr.  Smith  had  their  differences;  for  Mr.  Smith  was  a 
very  outspoken  gentleman,  and  had  been  known  to  call 
Tinman  names  that  no  man  of  spirit  would  bear  if  he  was 
not  scheming. 

Fellingham  returned  to  London,  where  he  roamed  the 
streets  famous  for  furniture  warehouses,  in  the  vain  hope 
of  encountering  the  new  owner  of  Elba. 

Failing  in  this  endeavour,  he  wrote  a  love-letter  to 
Annette. 

It  was  her  first.  She  had  liked  him.  Her  manner  of 
thinking  she  might  love  him  was  through  the  reflection 
that  no  one  stood  in  the  way.  The  letter  opened  a  world 
to  her,  broader  than  Great  Britain. 

Fellingham  begged  her,  if  she  thought  favourably  of  him, 
to  prepare  her  father  for  the  purport  of  his  visit.  If 
otherwise,  she  was  to  interdict  the  visit  with  as  little 
delay  as  possible  and  cut  him  adrift. 

A  decided  line  of  conduct  was  imperative.  Yet  you 
have  seen  that  she  was  not  in  love.  She  was  only  not 
unwilling  to  be  in  love.  And  Fellingham  was  just  a  trifle 
warmed.     Now  mark  what  events  will  do  to  light  the  fires. 

Van  Diemen  and  Tinman,  old  chums  re-united,  and  both 
successful  in  life,  had  nevertheless,  as  Mrs.  Crickledon 
said,  their  differences.     They  commenced  with  an  opposi* 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH  103 

tion  to  Tinman's  views  regarding  the  expenditure  of  town 
moneys.  Tinman  was  ever  for  devoting  them  to  the 
patriotic  defence  of  "our  shores;"  whereas  Van  Dicmen, 
pointing  in  detestation  of  the  town  sewerage  reeking  across 
the  common  under  the  beach,  loudly  called  on  him  to 
preserve  our  lives,  by  way  of  commencement.  Then  Van 
Diemen  precipitately  purchased  Elba  at  a  high  valuation, 
and  Tinman  had  expected  by  waiting  to  buy  it  at  his  own 
valuation,  and  sell  it  out  of  friendly  consideration  to 
his  friend  afterwards,  for  a  friendly  consideration.  Van 
Diemen  had  joined  the  hunt.  Tinman  could  not  mount  a 
horse.  They  had  not  quarrelled,  but  they  had  snapped 
about  these  and  other  affairs.  Van  Diemen  fancied  Tin- 
man was  jealous  of  his  wealth.  Tinman  shrewdly  suspected 
Van  Diemen  to  be  contemptuous  of  his  dignity.  He  suf- 
fered a  loss  in  a  loan  of  money;  and  instead  of  pitying 
him,  Van  Diemen  had  laughed  him  to  scorn  for  expecting 
security  for  investments  at  ten  per  cent.  The  bitterness  of 
the  pinch  to  Tinman  made  him  frightfully  sensitive  to 
strictures  on  his  discretion.  In  his  anguish  he  told  his 
sister  he  was  ruined,  and  she  advised  him  to  marry  before 
the  crash.  She  was  aware  that  he  exaggerated,  but  she 
repeated  her  advice.  She  went  so  far  as  to  name  the 
person.  This  is  known,  because  she  was  overheard  by  her 
housemaid,  a  gossip  of  Mrs.  Crickledon's,  the  subsequently 
famous  "Little  Jane." 

Now,  Annette  had  shyly  intimated  to  her  father  the 
nature  of  Herbert  Fellingham's  letter,  at  the  same  time 
professing  a  perfect  readiness  to  submit  to  his  directions; 
and  her  father's  perplexity  was  very  great,  for  Annette 
had  rather  fervently  dramatized  the  young  man's  words  at 
the  ball  at  Helmstone,  which  had  pleasantly  tickled  him, 
and,  besides,  he  liked  the  young  man.  On  the  other  hand, 
he  did  not  at  all  like  the  prospect  of  losing  his  daughter, 
and  he  would  have  desired  her  to  be  a  lady  of  title.  He 
hinted  at  her  right  to  claim  a  high  position.  Annette 
shrank  from  the  prospect,  saying,  "Never  let  me  marry 
one  who  might  be  ashamed  of  my  father!" 

"I  shouldn't  stomach  that,"  said  Van  Diemen,  more 
disposed  in  favour  of  the  present  suitor. 

Annette  was  now  in  a  tremor.     She  had  a  lover;  he  was 


104  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

coming.  And  if  he  did  not  come,  did  it  matter  ?  Not  so 
very  much,  except  to  her  pride.  And  if  he  did,  what  was 
she  to  say  to  him  ?  She  felt  like  an  actress  who  may  in  a 
few  minutes  be  called  on  the  stage,  without  knowing  her 
part.  This  was  painfully  unlike  love,  and  the  poor  girl 
feared  it  would  be  her  conscientious  duty  to  dismiss  him 
—  most  gently,  of  course;  and  perhaps,  should  he  be  im- 
petuous and  picturesque,  relent  enough  to  let  him  hope, 
and  so  bring  about  a  happy  postponement  of  the  question. 

Her  father  had  been  to  a  neighbouring  town  on  business 
with  Mr.  Tinman.  He  knocked  at  her  door  at  midnight; 
and  she,  in  dread  of  she  knew  not  what  —  chiefly  that  the 
Hour  of  the  Scene  had  somehow  struck  —  stepped  out  to 
him  trembling.  He  was  alone.  She  thought  herself  the 
most  childish  of  mortals  in  supposing  that  she  could  have 
been  summoned  at  midnight  to  declare  her  sentiments, 
and  hardly  noticed  his  gloomy  depression.  He  asked  her 
to  give  him  five  minutes;  then  asked  her  for  a  kiss,  and 
told  her  to  go  to  bed  and  sleep.  But  Annette  had  seen 
that  a  great  present  affliction  was  on  him,  and  she  would 
not  be  sent  to  sleep.  She  promised  to  listen  patiently,  to 
bear  anything,  to  be  brave.  "Is  it  bad  news  from  home  ?" 
she  said,  speaking  of  the  old  home  where  she  had  not  left 
her  heart,  and  where  his  money  was  invested. 

"It 's  this,  my  dear  Netty,"  said  Van  Diemen,  suffering 
her  to  lead  him  into  her  sitting-room;  "we  shall  have  to 
leave  the  shores  of  England." 

"Then  we  are  ruined." 

"We're  not;  the  rascal  can't  do  that.  We  might  be 
off  to  the  Continent,  or  we  might  go  to  America;  we  've 
money.  But  we  can't  stay  here.  I  '11  not  live  at  any 
man's  mercy." 

"The  Continent!  America!"  exclaimed  the  enthusiast 
for  England.     "Oh,  papa,  you  love  living  in  England  so!" 

"Not  so  much  as  all  that,  my  dear.  You  do,  that  I 
know.  But  I  don't  see  how  it 's  to  be  managed.  Mart 
Tinman  and  I  have  been  at  tooth  and  claw  to-day  and  half 
the  night;  and  he  has  thrown  off  the  mask,  or  he  's  dashed 
something  from  my  sight,  I  don't  know  which.  I  knocked 
him  down." 

"Papa!" 


THE   HOUSE   ON   THE   BEACH  1CK/ 

"I  picked  him  up." 

"Oh,"  cried  Annette,  "has  Mr.  Tinman  been  hurt?" 

"He  called  me  a  Deserter!  " 

Annette  shuddered. 

She  did  not  know  what  this  thing  was,  but  the  name  of 
it  opened  a  cabinet  of  horrors,  and  she  touched  her  father 
timidly,  to  assure  him  of  her  constant  love,  and  a  little  to 
reassure  herself  of  his  substantial  identity. 

"And  I  am  one,"  Van  Diemen  made  the  confession  at 
the  pitch  of  his  voice.  "I  am  a  Deserter;  I'm  liable  to 
be  branded  on  the  back.  And  it 's  in  Mart  Tinman's  power 
to  have  me  marched  away  to-morrow  morning  in  the  sight 
of  Crikswich,  and  all  I  can  say  for  myself,  as  a  man  and 
a  Briton,  is,  I  did  not  desert  before  the  enemy.  That  I 
swear  I  never  would  have  done.  Death,  if  death  's  in  front; 
but  your  poor  mother  was  a  handsome  woman,  my  child, 
and  there  —  I  could  not  go  on  living  in  barracks  and  leav- 
ing her  unprotected.  I  can't  tell  a  young  woman  the  tale. 
A  hundred  pounds  came  on  me  for  a  legacy,  as  plump  in 
my  hands  out  of  open  heaven,  and  your  poor  mother  and  I 
saw  our  chance ;  we  consulted,  and  we  determined  to  risk 
it,  and  I  got  on  board  with  her  and  you,  and  over  the  seas 
we  went,  first  to  shipwreck,  ultimately  to  fortune." 

Van  Diemen  laughed  miserably.  "They  noticed  in  the 
hunting-field  here  I  had  a  soldier-like  seat.  A  soldier-like 
seat  it  '11  be,  with  a  brand  on  it.  I  sha'n't  be  asked  to  take 
a  soldier-like  seat  at  any  of  their  tables  again.  I  may  at 
Mart  Tinman's,  out  of  pity,  after  I  've  undergone  my 
punishment.  There  's  a  year  still  to  run  out  of  the  twenty 
of  my  term  of  service  due.  He  knows  it;  he  's  been 
reckoning;  he  has  me.  But  the  worst  cat-o'-nine-tails  for 
me  is  the  disgrace.  To  have  myself  pointed  at,  '  There 
goes  the  Deserter!  He  was  a  private  in  the  Carbineers, 
and  he  deserted! '  No  one  '11  say,  '  Ay,  but  he  clung  to  the 
idea  of  his  old  schoolmate  when  abroad,  and  came  back- 
loving  him,  and  trusted  him,  and  was  deceived.'  " 

Van  Diemen  produced  a  spasmodic  cough  with  a  blow  on 
his  chest.     Annette  was  weeping. 

"There,  now  go  to  bed,"  said  he.  "I  wish  you  might 
have  known  no  more  than  you  did  of  our  flight  when  I  got 
you  on  board  the  ship  with  your  poor  mother;  but  you  're 


106  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

a  young  woman  now,  and  you  must  help  me  to  think  of 
another  cut  and  run,  and  what  baggage  we  can  scrape 
together  in  a  jiffy,  for  I  won't  live  here  at  Mart  Tinman's 
mercy." 

Drying  her  eyes  to  weep  again,  Annette  said,  when  she 
could  speak :  "  Will  nothing  quiet  him  ?  I  was  going  to 
bother  you  with  all  sorts  of  silly  questions,  poor  dear 
papa;  but  I  see  I  can  understand  if  I  try.  Will  nothing  — 
Is  he  so  very  angry  ?  Can  we  not  do  something  to 
pacify  him  ?  He  is  fond  of  money.  He  —  oh,  the  thought 
of  leaving  England!  Papa,  it  will  kill  you;  you  set  your 
whole  heart  on  England.  We  could  —  I  could  —  could  I 
not,  do  you  not  think  ?  —  step  between  you  as  a  peace- 
maker.    Mr.  Tinman  is  always  very  courteous  to  me." 

At  these  words  of  Annette's,  Van  Diemen  burst  into 
a  short  snap  of  savage  laughter.  "  But  that 's  far  away 
in  the  background,  Mr.  Mart  Tinman!"  he  said.  "You 
stick  to  your  game,  I  know  that;  but  you  '11  find  me  flown, 
though  I  leave  a  name  to  stink  like  your  common  behind 
me.  And,"  he  added,  as  a  chill  reminder,  "that  name  the 
name  of  my  benefactor.  Poor  old  Van  Diemen!  He 
thought  it  a  safe  bequest  to  make." 

"It  was;  it  is!  We  will  stay;  we  will  not  be  exiled," 
said  Annette.  "I  will  do  anything.  What  was  the 
quarrel  about,  papa  ? " 

"  The  fact  is,  my  dear,  I  just  wanted  to  show  him  —  and 
take  down  his  pride  —  I'm  by  my  Australian  education  a 
shrewder  hand  than  his  old  country.  I  bought  the  house 
on  the  beach  while  he  was  chaffering,  and  then  I  sold  it 
him  at  a  rise  when  the  town  was  looking  up  —  only  to 
make  him  see.  Then  he  burst  up  about  something  I  said 
of  Australia.  I  will  have  the  common  clean.  Let  him 
live  at  the  Crouch  as  my  tenant  if  he  finds  the  house  on 
the  beach  in  danger." 

"Papa,  I  am  sure,"  Annette  repeated  —  "sure  I  have 
influence  with  Mr.  Tinman." 

"There  are  those  lips  of  yours  shutting  tight,"  said  her 
father.  "Just  listen,  and  they  '11  make  a  big  O.  The 
donkey !  He  owns  you  've  got  influence,  and  he  offers  he  '11 
be  silent  if  you  '11  pledge  your  word  to  marry  him.  I  'm 
not  sure  he  did  n't  say,  within  the  year.     I  told  him  to 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH  107 

iook  sharp  not  to  be  knocked  down  again.  Mart  Tinman 
for  my  son-in-law!  That 's  an  upside  down  of  my  expec- 
tations, as  good  as  being  at  the  antipodes  without  a  second 
voyage  back!     I  let  him  know  you  were  engaged." 

Annette  gazed  at  her  father  open-mouthed,  as  he  had 
predicted;  now  with  a  little  chilly  dimple  at  one  corner  of 
the  mouth,  now  at  another  —  as  a  breeze  curves  the  leaden 
winter  lake  here  and  there.  She  could  not  get  his  meaning 
into  her  sight,  and  she  sought,  by  looking  hard,  to  under- 
stand it  better;  much  as  when  some  solitary  maiden  lady, 
passing  into  her  bedchamber  in  the  hours  of  darkness, 
beholds  —  tradition  telling  us  she  has  absolutely  beheld  — 
foot  of  burglar  under  bed;  and  lo!  she  stares,  and,  cun- 
ningly to  moderate  her  horror,  doubts,  yet  cannot  but  be- 
lieve that  there  is  a  leg,  and  a  trunk,  and  a  head,  and  two 
terrible  arms  bearing  pistols,  to  follow.  Sick,  she  palpi- 
tates; she  compresses  her  trepidation;  she  coughs,  per- 
chance she  sings  a  bar  or  two  of  an  aria.  Glancing  down 
again,  thrice  horrible  to  her  is  it  to  discover  that  there  is 
no  foot !  For  had  it  remained,  it  might  have  been  imag- 
ined a  harmless,  empty  boot.  But  the  withdrawal  has  a 
deadly  significance  of  animal  life.  .   .  . 

In  like  manner  our  stricken  Annette  perceived  the  object; 
so  did  she  gradually  apprehend  the  fact  of  her  being  asked 
for  Tinman's  bride,  and  she  could  not  think  it  credible. 
She  half  scented,  she  devised  her  plan  of  escape  from 
another  single  mention  of  it.  But  on  her  father's  remark- 
ing, with  a  shuffle,  frightened  by  her  countenance,  "  Don't 
listen  to  what  I  said,  Netty.  I  won't  paint  him  blacker 
than  he  is  "  —  then  Annette  was  sure  she  had  been  pro- 
posed for  by  Mr.  Tinman,  and  she  fancied  her  father  might 
have  revolved  it  in  his  mind  that  there  was  this  means  of 
keeping  Tinman  silent,  silent  forever,  in  his  own  interests. 

"It  was  not  true,  when  you  told  Mr.  Tinman  I  was 
engaged,  papa,"  she  said. 

"  No,  I  know  that.  Mart  Tinman  only  half  —  kind  of 
hinted.  Come,  I  say!  Where's  the  unmarried  man 
would  n't  like  to  have  a  girl  like  you,  Netty !  They  say 
he  's  been  rejected  all  round  a  circuit  of  fifteen  miles ;  and 
he  's  not  bad-looking,  neither  —  he  looks  fresh  and  fair. 
But  I  thought  it  as  well  to  let  him  know  he  might  get  me 


108  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

at  a  disadvantage,  but  he  could  n't  you.     Now,  don't  think 
about  it,  my  love." 

"Not  if  it  is  not  necessary,  papa,"  said  Annette;  and 
employed  her  familiar  sweetness  in  persuading  him  to  go 
to  bed,  as  though  he  were  the  afflicted  one  requiring  to 
be  petted. 


CHAPTER  VII 


Round  under  the  cliffs  by  the  sea,  facing  South,  are 
warm  seats  in  winter.  The  sun  that  shines  there  on  a  day 
of  frost  wraps  you  as  in  a  mantle.  Here  it  was  that  Mr. 
Herbert  Fellingham  found  Annette,  a  chalk-block  for  her 
chair,  and  a  mound  of  chalk-rubble  defending  her  from  the 
keen-tipped  breath  of  the  east,  now  and  then  shadowing  th« 
smooth  blue  water,  faintly,  like  reflections  of  a  flight  o* 
gulls. 

Infants  are  said  to  have  their  ideas,  and  why  not  young 
ladies  ?  Those  who  write  of  their  perplexities  in  descrip- 
tions comical  in  their  length  are  unkind  to  them,  by  mak- 
ing them  appear  the  simplest  of  the  creatures  of  fiction ; 
and  most  of  us,  I  am  sure,  would  incline  to  believe  in  them 
if  they  were  only  some  bit  more  lightly  touched.  Those 
troubled  sentiments  of  our  young  lady  of  the  comfortable 
classes  are  quite  worthy  of  mention.  Her  poor  little  eye 
poring  as  little  fishlike  as  possible  upon  the  intricate,  which 
she  takes  for  the  infinite,  has  its  place  in  our  history,  nor 
should  we  any  of  us  miss  the  pathos  of  it  were  it  not  that  so 
large  a  space  is  claimed  for  the  exposure.  As  it  is,  one 
has  almost  to  fight  a  battle  to  persuade  the  world  that  she 
has  downright  thoughts  and  feelings,  and  really  a  super- 
human delicacy  is  required  in  presenting  her  that  she  may 
be  credible.  Even  then  —  so  much  being  accomplished  — 
the  thousands  accustomed  to  chapters  of  her  when  she  is 
in  the  situation  of  Annette  will  be  disappointed  by  short 
sentences,  just  as  of  old  the  Continental  eater  of  oysters 
would  have  been  offended  at  the  offer  of  an  exchange  of 
two  live  for  two  dozen  dead  ones.  Annette  was  in  the 
grand  crucial  position  of  English  imaginative  prose.     1 


THE   HOUSE   ON   THE    HEACH  109 

recognize  it,  and  that  to  this  the  streamlets  flow,  thence 
pours  the  flood.  But  what  was  the  plain  truth  ?  She  had 
brought  herself  to  think  she  ought  to  sacrifice  herself  to 
Tinman,  and  her  evasions  with  Herbert,  manifested  in 
tricks  of  coldness  alternating  with  tones  of  regret,  ended, 
as  they  had  commenced,  in  a  mysterious  half-sullenness. 
She  had  hardly  a  word  to  say.  Let  me  step  in  again  to 
observe  that  she  had  at  the  moment  no  pointed  intention  of 
marrying  Tinman.  To  her  mind  the  circumstances  com- 
pelled her  to  embark  on  the  idea  of  doing  so,  and  she  saw 
the  extremity  in  an  extreme  distance,  as  those  who  are 
taking  voyages  may  see  death  by  drowning.  Still  she  had 
embarked. 

"  At  all  events,  I  have  your  word  for  it  that  you  don't 
dislike  me  ?  "  said  Herbert. 

"  Oh !  no,"  she  sighed.  She  liked  him  as  emigrants  the 
land  they  are  leaving. 

"And  you  have  not  promised  your  hand?  " 

"  No,"  she  said,  but  sighed  in  thinking  that  if  she  could 
be  induced  to  promise  it,  there  would  not  be  a  word  of 
leaving  England. 

"  Then,  as  you  are  not  engaged,  and  don't  hate  me,  I  have 
a  chance  ?  "  he  said,  in  the  semi-wailful  interrogative  of  an 
organ  making  a  mere  windy  conclusion. 

Ocean  sent  up  a  tiny  wave  at  their  feet. 

"  A  day  like  this  in  winter  is  rarer  than  a  summer  day," 
Herbert  resumed  encouragingly. 

Annette  was  replying,  "People  abuse  our  climate " 

But  the  thought  of  having  to  go  out  away  from  this  climate 
in  the  darkness  of  exile,  with  her  father  to  suffer  under  it 
worse  than  herself,  overwhelmed  her,  and  fetched  the 
reality  of  her  sorrow  in  the  form  of  Tinman  swimming 
before  her  soul  with  the  velocity  of  a  telegraph-pole  to  the 
window  of  the  flying  train.  It  was  past  as  soon  as  seen, 
but  it  gave  her  a  desperate  sensation  of  speed. 

She  began  to  feel  that  this  was  life  in  earnest. 

And  Herbert  should  have  been  more  resolute,  fierier. 
She  needed  a  strong  will. 

But  he  was  not  on  the  rapids  of  the  masterful  passion. 
For  though  going  at  a  certain  pace,  it  was  by  his  own  im- 
pulsion;  and  I  am  afraid  I  must,  with  many  apologies, 


110  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

compare  him  to  the  skater  —  to  the  skater  on  easy,  slippery 
ice,  be  it  understood  ;  but  he  could  perform  gyrations  as  he 
went,  and  he  rather  sailed  along  than  dashed;  he  was  care- 
ful of  his  figuring.  Some  lovers,  right  honest  lovers,  never 
get  beyond  this  quaint  skating-stage  ;  and  some  ladies,  a 
right  goodly  number  in  a  foggy  climate,  deceived  by  their 
occasional  runs  ahead,  take  them  for  vessels  on  the  very 
torrent  of  love.  Let  them  take  them,  and  let  the  race  con- 
tinue. Only  we  perceive  that  they  are  skating ;  they  are 
careering  over  a  smooth  icy  floor,  and  they  can  stop  at  a 
signal,  with  just  half-a-yard  of  grating  on  the  heel  at  the 
outside.  Ice,  and  not  fire  nor  falling  water,  has  been  their 
medium  of  progression. 

Whether  a  man  should  unveil  his  own  sex  is  quite  an- 
other question.  If  we  are  detected,  not  solely  are  we  done 
for,  but  our  love-tales  too.  However,  there  is  not  much 
ground  for  anxiety  on  that  head.  Each  member  of  the 
other  party  is  blind  on  her  own  account. 

To  Annette  the  figuring  of  Herbert  was  graceful,  but  it 
did  not  catch  her  up  and  carry  her ;  it  hardly  touched  her. 
He  spoke  well  enough  to  make  her  sorry  for  him,  and  not 
warmly  enough  to  make  her  forget  her  sorrow  for  herself. 

Herbert  could  obtain  no  explanation  of  the  singularity  of 
her  conduct  from  Annette,  and  he  went  straight  to  her 
father,  who  was  nearly  as  inexplicable  for  a  time.  At  last 
he  said  — 

"  If  you  are  ready  to  quit  the  country  with  us,  you  may 
have  my  consent." 

"Why  quit  the  country?"  Herbert  asked,  in  natura1 
amazement. 

Van  Diemen  declined  to  tell  him. 

But  seeing  the  young  man  look  stupefied  and  wretched 
he  took  a  turn  about  the  room,  and  said :  "  I  have  n'1 
robbed,"  and  after  more  turns,  "  I  have  n't  murdered." 
He  growled  in  his  menagerie  trot  within  the  four  walls : 
"  But  I  'm  in  a  man's  power.  Will  that  satisfy  you  ? 
You  '11  tell  me,  because  I  'm  rich,  to  snap  my  fingers.  I 
can't.  I  've  got  feelings.  I  'm  in  his  power  to  hurt  me 
and  disgrace  me.  It 's  the  disgrace  —  to  my  disgrace  I  say 
it  —  I  dread  most.  You  'd  be  up  to  my  reason  if  you  had 
ever  served  in  a  regiment.     I  mean,  discipline  —  if  ever 


THE  HOTTSE  ON  THE  BEACH  111 

you'd  known  discipline  —  in  the  police  if  you  like  —  any- 
thing  —  anywhere  where  there's  what  we  used  to  call 
spiny  de  cor.  I  mean,  at  school.  And  I  'in,"  said  Van 
Diemen,  "a  rank  idiot  double  D.  dolt,  and  flat  as  a  pan- 
cake, and  transparent  as  a  pane  of  glass.  You  see  through 
me.  Anybody  could.  I  can't  talk  of  my  botheration  with- 
out betraying  myself.  What  good  am  I  among  you  sharp 
fellows  in  England  ?  " 

Language  of  this  kind,  by  virtue  of  its  unintelligibility, 
set  Mr.  Herbert  Fellingham's  acute  speculations  at  work. 
He  was  obliged  to  lean  on  Van  Diemen's  assertion,  that  he 
had  not  robbed  and  had  not  murdered,  to  be  comforted  by 
the  belief  that  he  was  not  once  a  notorious  bushranger,  or 
a  defaulting  manager  of  mines,  or  any  other  thing  that  is 
naughtily  Australian  and  kangarooly. 

He  sat  at  the  dinner-table  at  Elba,  eating  like  the  rest 
of  mankind,  and  looking  like  a  starved  beggarman  all  the 
while. 

Annette,  in  pity  of  his  bewilderment,  would  have  had 
her  father  take  him  into  their  confidence.  She  suggested 
it  covertly,  and  next  she  spoke  of  it  to  him  as  a  prudent 
measure,  seeing  that  Mr.  Fellingham  might  find  out  his  exact 
degree  of  liability.  Van  Diemen  shouted ;  he  betrayed 
himself  in  his  weakness  as  she  could  not  have  imagined 
him.  He  was  ready  to  go,  he  said  —  go  on  the  spot,  give 
up  Elba,  fly  from  Old  England :  what  he  could  not  do  was 
to  let  his  countrymen  know  what  he  was,  and  live  among 
them  afterwards.  He  declared  that  the  fact  had  eternally 
been  present  to  his  mind,  devouring  him ;  and  Annette 
remembered  his  kindness  to  the  artillerymen  posted  along 
the  shore  westward  of  Crikswich,  though  she  could  recall 
no  sign  of  remorse.  Van  Diemen  said:  "We  have  to  do 
with  Martin  Tinman  ;  that 's  one  who  has  a  hold  on  me, 
and  one 's  enough.  Leak  out  my  secret  to  a  second  fellow, 
you  double  my  risks."  He  would  not  be  taught  to  see 
how  the  second  might  counteract  the  first.  The  singularity 
of  the  action  of  his  character  on  her  position  was,  that 
though  she  knew  not  a  soul  to  whom  she  could  unburden 
her  wretchedness,  and  stood  far  more  isolated  than  in  her 
Australian  home,  fever  and  chill  struck  her  blood  in  con- 
templation of  the  necessity  of  quitting  England. 


112  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

Deep,  then,  was  her  gratitude  to  dear  good  Mrs.  Cavely 
for  stepping  in  to  mediate  between  her  father  and  Mr. 
Tinman.  And  well  might  she  be  amazed  to  hear  the 
origin  of  their  recent  dispute. 

"  It  was/'  Mrs.  Cavely  said,  "  that  Gippsland  ! '' 

Annette  cried :  «  What  ?  " 

"  That  Gippsland  of  yours,  my  dear.  Your  father  will 
praise  Gippsland  whenever  my  Martin  asks  him  to  admire 
the  beauties  of  our  neighbourhood.  Many  a  time  has  Martin 
come  home  to  me  complaining  of  it.  We  have  no  doubt  on 
earth  that  Gippsland  is  a  very  fine  place  ;  but  my  brother 
has  his  ideas  of  dignity,  you  must  know,  and  I  only  wish 
he  had  been  more  used  to  contradiction,  you  may  believe 
me.  He  is  a  lamb  by  nature.  And,  as  he  says,  '  Why  un- 
derrate one's  own  country  ? '  He  cannot  bear  to  hear 
boasting.  Well !  I  put  it  to  you,  dear  Annette,  is  he  so 
unimportant  a  person?  He  asks  to  be  respected,  and 
especially  by  his  dearest  friend.  From  that  to  blows ! 
It 's  the  way  with  men.  They  begin  about  trifles,  they 
drink,  they  quarrel,  and  one  does  what  he  is  sorry  for,  and 
one  says  more  than  he  means.  All  my  Martin  desires  is 
to  shake  your  dear  father's  hand,  forgive  and  forget.  To 
win  your  esteem,  darling  Annette,  he  would  humble  him- 
self in  the  dust.  Will  you  not  help  me  to  bring  these  two 
dear  old  friends  together  once  more  ?  It  is  unreasonable 
of  your  dear  papa  to  go  on  boasting  of  Gippsland  if  he  is 
so  fond  of  England,  now  is  it  not  ?  My  brother  is  the 
offended  party  in  the  eye  of  the  law.  That  is  quite  certain. 
Do  you  suppose  he  dreams  of  taking  advantage  of  it  ?  He 
is  waiting  at  home  to  be  told  he  may  call  on  your  father. 
Bank,  dignity,  wounded  feelings,  is  nothing  to  him  in 
comparison  with  friendship." 

Annette  thought  of  the  blow  which  had  felled  him,  and 
spoke  the  truth  of  her  heart  in  saying,  "  He  is  very 
generous." 

"  You  understand  him."  Mrs.  Cavely  pressed  her  hand. 
"We  will  both  go  to  your  dear  father.  He  may,"  she 
added,  not  without  a  gleam  of  feminine  archness,  "praise 
Gippsland  above  the  Himalayas  to  me.  What  my  Martin 
so  much  objected  to  was,  the  speaking  of  Gippsland  at  all 
when  there  was  mention  of  our  Lake  scenery.    As  for  me, 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH  113 

I  know  how  men  love  to  boast  of  things  nobody  else  has 
seen." 

The  two  ladies  went  in  company  to  Van  Diemen,  who 
allowed  himself  to  be  melted.  He  was  reserved  neverthe- 
less. His  reception  of  Mr.  Tinman  displeased  his  daughter. 
Annette  attached  the  blackest  importance  to  a  blow  of  the 
fist.  In  her  mind  it  blazed  fiendlike,  and  the  man  who 
forgave  it  rose  a  step  or  two  on  the  sublime.  Especially 
did  he  do  so  considering  that  he  had  it  in  his  power  to 
dismiss  her  father  and  herself  from  bright  beaming  Eng- 
land before  she  had  looked  on  all  the  cathedrals  and 
churches,  the  sea-shores  and  spots  named  in  printed  poetry, 
to  say  nothing  of  the  nobility. 

"Papa,  you  were  not  so  kind  to  Mr.  Tinman  as  I  could 
have  hoped,"  said  Annette. 

"  Mart  Tinman  has  me  at  his  mercy,  and  he  '11  make  me 
know  it,"  her  father  returned  gloomily.  "  He  may  let  me 
off  with  the  Commander-in-chief.  He  '11  blast  my  reputa- 
tion some  day,  though.  I  shall  be  hanging  my  head  in 
society,  through  him." 

Van  Diemen  imitated  the  disconsolate  appearance  of  a 
gallows  body,  in  one  of  those  rapid  flashes  of  spontaneous 
veri-similitude  which  spring  of  an  inborn  horror  painting 
itself  on  the  outside. 

"  A  Deserter  ! "  he  moaned. 

He  succeeded  in  impressing  the  terrible  nature  of  the 
Bti'gma  upon  Annette's  imagination. 

The  guest  at  Elba  was  busy  in  adding  up  the  sum  of  his 
own  impressions,  and  dividing  it  by  this  and  that  new  cir- 
cumstance; for  he  was  totally  in  the  dark.  He  was  at- 
tracted by  the  mysterious  interview  of  Mrs.  Cavely  and 
Annette.  Tinman's  calling  and  departing  set  him  upon 
new  calculations.  Annette  grew  cold  and  visibly  distressed 
by  her  consciousness  of  it. 

She  endeavoured  to  account  for  this  variation  of  mood. 
"  We  have  been  invited  to  dine  at  the  house  on  the  beach 
to-morrow.  I  would  not  have  accepted,  but  papa  ...  we 
seemed  to  think  it  a  duty.  Of  course  the  invitation  ex- 
tends to  you.  We  fancy  you  do  nob  greatly  enjoy  dining 
there.     The  table  will  be  laid  for  you  here,  if  you  prefer." 

Herbert  preferred  to  try  the  skill  of  Mrs.  Crickledon. 


114         THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

Now,  for  positive  penetration  the  head  prepossessed  by 
a  suspicion  is  unmatched ;  for  where  there  is  no  daylight, 
this  one  at  least  goes  about  with  a  lantern.  Herbert  begged 
Mrs.  Crickledon  to  cook  a  dinner  for  him,  and  then  to  give 
the  right  colour  to  his  absence  from  the  table  of  Mr.  Tin- 
man, he  started  for  a  winter  day's  walk  over  the  downs  — 
as  sharpening  a  business  as  any  young  fellow,  blunt  or 
keen,  may  undertake;  excellent  for  men  of  the  pen, 
whether  they  be  creative,  and  produce,  or  slaughtering, 
and  review;  good,  then,  for  the  silly  sheep  of  letters  and 
the  butchers.  He  sat  down  to  Mrs.  Crickledon's  table  at 
half-past  six.  She  was,  as  she  had  previously  informed 
him,  a  forty-pound-a-year  cook  at  the  period  of  her  court- 
ing by  Crickledon.  That  zealous  and  devoted  husband  had 
made  his  first  excursion  inland  to  drop  over  the  downs  to 
the  great  house,  and  fetch  her  away  as  his  bride,  on  the 
death  of  her  master,  Sir  Alfred  Pooney,  who  never  would 
have  parted  with  her  in  life ;  and  every  day  of  that  man's 
life  he  dirtied  thirteen  plates  at  dinner,  nor  more,  nor  less, 
but  exactly  that  number,  as  if  he  believed  there  was  luck 
in  it.  And  as  Crickledon  said,  it  was  odd.  But  it  was 
always  a  pleasure  to  cook  for  him.  Mrs.  Crickledon  could 
not  abide  cooking  for  a  mean  eater.  And  when  Crickledon 
said  he  had  never  seen  an  acorn,  he  might  have  seen  one 
had  he  looked  about  him  in  the  great  park,  under  the  oaks, 
on  the  day  when  he  came  to  be  married. 

"  Then  it 's  a  standing  compliment  to  you,  Mrs.  Crickle- 
don, that  he  did  not,"  said  Herbert. 

He  remarked  with  the  sententiousness  of  enforced  phi- 
losophy, that  no  wine  was  better  than  bad  wine. 

Mrs.  Crickledon  spoke  of  a  bottle  left  by  her  summer 
lodgers,  who  had  indeed  left  two,  calling  the  wine  invalid's 
wine ;  and  she  and  her  husband  had  opened  one  on  the 
anniversary  of  their  marriage  day  in  October.  It  had  the 
taste  of  doctor's  shop,  they  both  agreed ;  and  as  no  friend 
of  theirs  could  be  tempted  beyond  a  sip,  they  were  advised, 
because  it  was  called  a  tonic,  to  mix  it  with  the  pig-wash, 
so  that  it  should  not  be  entirely  lost,  but  benefit  the  consti- 
tution of  the  pig.  Herbert  sipped  at  the  remaining  bottle, 
and  finding  himself  in  the  superior  society  of  an  old  Man« 
zanilla,  refilled  his  glass. 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH  115 

"Nothing  I  knows  of  proves  the  difference  between 
gentlefolks  and  poor  persons  as  tastes  in  wine,"  said  Mrs. 
Crickledon,  admiring  him  as  she  brought  in  a  dish  of  cut- 
lets, with  Sir  Alfred  Pooney's  favourite  sauce  Soubise, 
wherein  rightly  onion  should  be  delicate  as  the  idea  of  love 
in  maidens'  thoughts,  albeit  constituting  the  element  of 
flavour.  Something  of  such  a  dictum  Sir  Alfred  Pooney 
had  imparted  to  his  cook,  and  she  repeated  it  with  the 
fresh  elegance  of  such  sweet  sayings  when  transfused 
through  the  native  mind : 

"  He  said,  '  Like  as  it  was  what  you  would  call  a  young 
gal's  blush  at  a  kiss  round  a  corner.'  " 

The  epicurean  baronet  had  the  habit  of  talking  in  that 
way. 

Herbert  drank  to  his  memory.  He  was  well-filled;  he 
had  no  work  to  do,  and  he  was  exuberant  in  spirits,  as 
Mrs.  Crickledon  knew  her  countrymen  should  and  would 
be  under  those  conditions.  And  suddenly  he  drew  his  hand 
across  a  forehead  so  wrinkled  and  dark,  that  Mrs.  Crickle- 
don exclaimed,  "  Heart  or  stomach  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  he.    "  I  'm  sound  enough  in  both,  I  hope." 

"That  old  Tinman's  up  to  one  of  his  games,"  she 
observed. 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?  " 

"  He 's  circumventing  Miss  Annette  Smith." 

"Pooh!  Crickledon.  A  man  of  his  age  can't  be  seri- 
ously thinking  of  proposing  for  a  young  lady." 

"  He 's  a  well-kept  man.  He 's  never  racketed.  He 
had  n't  the  rackets  in  him.  And  she  may  n't  care  for  him. 
But  we  hear  things  drop." 

"  What  things  have  you  heard  drop,  Crickledon  ?  In  a 
profound  silence  you  may  hear  pins ;  in  a  hubbub  you  may 
hear  cannon-balls.  But  I  never  believe  in  eavesdropping 
gossip." 

"  He  was  heard  to  say  to  Mr.  Smith,"  Crickledon  pur- 
sued, and  she  lowered  her  voice,  "he  was  heard  to  say,  it 
was  when  they  were  quarrelling  over  that  chewal,  and  they 
went  at  one  another  pretty  hard  before  Mr.  Smith  beat  him 
and  he  sold  Mr.  Smith  that  meadow ;  he  was  heard  to  say, 
there  was  worse  than  transportation  for  Mr.  Smith  if  he 
but  lifted  his  finger.     They  Tinmans  have  awful  tempers. 


116  THE   HOUSE   ON  THE   BEACH 

His  old  mother  died  malignant,  though  she  was  a  saving 
woman,  and  never  owed  a  penny  to  a  Christian  a  hour 
longer  than  it  took  to  pay  the  money.  And  old  Tinman's 
just  such  another." 

"Transportation!"  Herbert  ejaculated,  "that's  sheer 
nonsense,  Crickledon.  I  'm  sure  your  husband  would  tell 
you  so." 

"It  was  my  husband  brought  me  the  words,"  Mrs. 
Crickledon  rejoined  with  some  triumph.  "  He  did  tell  me, 
I  own,  to  keep  it  shut :  but  my  speaking  to  you,  a  friend  of 
Mr.  Smith's,  won't  do  no  harm.  He  heard  them  under  the 
battery,  over  that  chewal  glass:  'And  you  shall  pay,'  says 
Mr.  Smith,  and  '  I  sha'n't,'  says  old  Tinman.  Mr.  Smith 
said  he  would  have  it  if  he  had  to  squeeze  a  deathbed  con- 
fession from  a  sinner.  Then  old  Tinman  fires  out,  'You!' 
he  says,  '  you '  and  he  stammered.  '  Mr.  Smith,'  my  hus- 
band said  —  and  you  never  saw  a  man  so  shocked  as  my 
husband  at  being  obliged  to  hear  them  at  one  another  — 
'Mr.  Smith  used  the  word  damn.'     You  may  laugh,  sir." 

;'  You  say  it  so  capitally,  Crickledon." 

"  And  then  old  Tinman  said,  And  a  D.  to  you ;  and  if  I 
lift  my  finger,  it 's  Big  D.  on  your  back.'  " 

"  And  what  did  Mr.  Smith  say,  then  ?  " 

"He  said,  like  a  man  shot,  my  husband  says  he  said, 
'My  God!'" 

Herbert  Fellingham  jumped  away  from  the  table. 

"  You  tell  me,  Crickledon,  your  husband  actually  heard 
that  —  just  those  words  ?  —  the  tones  ?  " 

"My  husband  says  he  heard  him  say,  'My  God!'  just 
like  a  poor  man  shot  or  stabbed.  You  may  speak  to 
Crickledon,  if  you  speaks  to  him  alone,  sir.  I  say  you 
ought  to  know.  For  I  've  noticed  Mr.  Smith  since  that  day 
has  never  looked  to  me  the  same  easy-minded  happy 
gpntlftinan  he  was  when  we  first  knew  him.  He  would  have 
had  me  go  to  cook  for  him  at  Elba,  but  Crickledon  thought 
I'd  better  be  independent,  and  Mr.  Smith  said  to  me, 
*  Perhaps  you  're  right,  Crickledon,  for  who  knows  how  long 
I  may  be  among  you  ?  '  " 

Herbert  took  the  solace  of  tobacco  in  Crickledon's  shop. 
Thence,  with  the  story  confirmed  to  him,  he  sauntered 
«*Quud  the  house  on  the  beach. 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH         117 


CHAPTER  VIII 

The  moon  was  over  sea.  Coasting  vessels  that  had  run 
into  the  bay  for  shelter  from  the  North  wind  lay  with  their 
shadows  thrown  shoreward  on  the  cold  smooth  water, 
almost  to  the  verge  of  the  beach,  where  there  was  neither 
breath  nor  sound  of  wind,  only  the  lisp  at  the  pebbles. 

Mrs.  Crickledon's  dinner  and  the  state  of  his  heart  made 
young  Fellingham  indifferent  to  a  wintry  atmosphere. 
It  sufficed  him  that  the  night  was  fair.  He  stretched  him- 
self on  the  shingle,  thinking  of  the  Manzanilla,  and 
Annette,  and  the  fine  flavour  given  to  tobacco  by  a  dry  still 
air  in  moonlight  —  thinking  of  his  work,  too,  in  the  back- 
ground, as  far  as  mental  lassitude  would  allow  of  it.  The 
idea  of  taking  Annette  to  see  his  first  play  at  the  theatre  — 
when  it  should  be  performed  —  was  very  soothing.  The 
beach  rather  looked  like  a  stage,  and  the  sea  like  a  ghostly 
audience,  with,  if  you  will,  the  broadside  bulks  of  black 
sailing  craft  at  anchor  for  representatives  of  the  newspaper 
press.  Annette  was  a  nice  girl;  if  a  little  commonplace 
and  low-born,  yet  sweet.  What  a  subject  he  could  make  of 
her  father !  "  The  Deserter  "  offered  a  new  complication. 
Fellingham  rapidly  sketched  it  in  fancy  —  Van  Diemen,  as 
a  Member  of  the  Parliament  of  Great  Britain,  led  away 
from  the  House  of  Commons  to  be  branded  on  the  back! 
What  a  magnificent  fall !  We  have  so  few  intensely 
dramatic  positions  in  English  real  life  that  the  meditative 
author  grew  enamoured  of  this  one,  and  laughed  out  a  royal 
"  Ha ! "  like  a  monarch  reviewing  his  well-appointed 
soldiery. 

"  There  you  are,"  said  Van  Diemen's  voice ;  "  I  smelt  your 
pipe.  You're  a  rum  fellow,  to  be  lying  out  on  the  beach  on 
a  cold  night.  Lord  !  I  don't  like  you  the  worse  for  it.  I 
was  for  the  romance  of  the  moon  in  my  young  days." 

"  Where  is  Annette  ?  "  said  Fellingham,  jumping  to  his 
feet. 

"  My  daughter  ?     She  's  taking  leave  of  her  intended." 

"  What 's  that  ?  "  Fellingham  gasped.  "  Good  heavens, 
Mr.  Smith,  what  do  you  mean  ?  " 


118  THE   HOUSE   ON   THE   BEACH 

"Pick  up  your  pipe,  my  lad.  Girls  choose  as  they 
please,  I  suppose." 

"Her  intended,  did  you  say,  sir?  What  can  that 
mean  ?  " 

"  My  dear  good  young  fellow,  don't  make  a  fuss.  We  're 
all  going  to  stay  here,  and  very  glad  to  see  you  from  time 
to  time.  The  fact  is,  I  ought  n't  to  have  quarrelled  with 
Mart  Tinman  as  I  've  done  ;  I  'm  too  peppery  by  nature. 
The  fact  is,  I  struck  him,  and  he  forgave  it.  I  couldn't 
have  done  that  myself.  And  I  believe  I  'm  in  for  a  head- 
ache to-morrow ;  upon  my  soul,  I  do.  Mart  Tinman  would 
champagne  us  ;  but,  poor  old  boy,  I  struck  him,  and  I 
could  n't  make  amends  —  did  n't  see  my  way  ;  and  we 
joined  hands  over  the  glass  —  to  the  deuce  with  the  glass  ! 

—  and  the  end  of  it  is,  Netty  —  she  did  n't  propose  it,  but 
as  I  'in  in  his  —  I  say,  as  I  had  struck  him,  she  —  it  was 
rather  solemn,  if  you  had  seen  us  —  she  burst  into  tears, 
and  there  was  Mrs.  Cavely,  and  old  Mart,  and  me  as  big  a 
fool  —  if  I  'm  not  a  villain !  " 

Fellingham  perceived  a  more  than  common  effect  of  Tin- 
man's wine.  He  touched  Van  Diemen  on  the  shoulder. 
"May  I  beg  to  hear  exactly  what  has  happened?" 

"Upon  my  soul,  we're  all  going  to  live  comfortably  in 
Old  England,  and  no  more  quarrelling  and  decamping," 
was  the  stupid  rejoinder.     "  Except  that  I  did  n't  exactly 

—  I  think  you  said  '  exactly  '  ?  —  I  did  n't  bargain  for  old 
Mart  as  my  —  but  he 's  a  sound  man ;  Mart 's  my  junior  ; 
he's  rich.  He's  eco  .  .  .  he's  eco  .  .  .  you  know  —  my 
Lord  !  where  's  my  brains  ?  —  but  he  's  upright  —  'nomieal !  " 

"  An  economical  man,"  said  Fellingham,  with  sedate 
impatience. 

"  My  dear  sir,  I  'm  heartily  obliged  to  you  for  your  assist- 
ance," returned  Van  Diemen.     "Here  she  is." 

Annette  had  come  out  of  the  gate  in  the  flint  wall.  She 
started  slightly  on  seeing  Herbert,  whom  she  had  taken  for 
a  coastguard,  she  said.  He  bowed.  He  kept  his  head 
bent,  peering  at  her  intrusively. 

"  It 's  the  air  on  champagne,"  Van  Diemen  said,  calling 
on  his  lungs  to  clear  themselves  and  right  him.  "  I  was  n't 
a  bit  queer  in  the  house." 

"The  air  on  Tinman's  champagne!"  said  Fellingham. 


THE    HOUSE    ON   THE    BEACH  119 

"  It   must    be   like   the   contact   of   two   hostile   chemical 
elements." 

Annette  walked  faster. 

They  descended  from  the  shingle  to  the  scant-bladed 
grass-sweep  running  round  the  salted  town-refuse  on  to- 
ward Elba.  Van  Diemen  sniffed,  ejaculating,  "  I  '11  be  best 
man  with  Mart  Tinman  about  this  business!  You'll  stop 
with  us,  Mr.  —  what 's  your  Christian  name  ?  Stop  with  us 
as  long  as  you  like.  Old  friends  for  me  !  The  joke  of  it 
is  that  Nelson  was  my  man,  and  yet  I  went  and  enlisted  in 
the  cavalry.  If  you  talk  of  chemical  substances,  old  Mart 
Tinman  was  a  sneak  who  never  cared  a  dump  for  his  coun- 
try ;  and  I  'm  not  to  speak  a  single  sybbarel  about  that  .  .  . 
over  there  .  .  .  Australia  .  .  .  Gippsland!  So  down  he 
went,  clean  over.  Very  sorry  for  what  we  have  done. 
Contrite.     Penitent." 

"  Now  we  feel  the  wind  a  little,"  said  Annette. 

Fellingham  murmured,  "  Allow  me  ;  your  shawl  is  flying 
loose." 

He  laid  his  hands  on  her  arms,  and,  pressing  her  in  a 
tremble,  said,  "  One  sign !  It 's  not  true  ?  A  word  !  Do 
you  hate  me  ?  " 

"  Thank  you  very  much,  but  I  am  not  cold,"  she  replied, 
and  linked  herself  to  her  father. 

Van  Diemen  immediately  shouted,  "For  we  are  jolly 
boys !  for  we  are  jolly  boys  !  It 's  the  air  on  the  cham- 
pagne. And  hang  me,"  said  he,  as  they  entered  the  ground? 
of  Elba,  "  if  I  don't  walk  over  my  property." 

Annette  interposed ;  she  stood  like  a  reed  in  his  way. 

"  No !  my  Lord !  I  '11  see  what  I  sold  you  for !  "  he 
cried.  "  I  'm  an  owner  of  the  soil  of  Old  England,  and  care 
no  more  for  the  title  of  squire  than  Napoleon  Bonaparty. 
But  I  '11  tell  you  what,  Mr.  Hubbard :  your  mother  was 
never  so  astonished  at  her  dog  as  old  Van  Diemen  would 
be  to  hear  himself  called  squire  in  Old  England.  And  a 
convict  he  was,  for  he  did  wrong  once,  but  he  worked  his 
redemption.  And  the  smell  of  my  own  property  makes  me 
feel  my  legs  again.  And  I  '11  tell  you  what,  Mr.  Hubbard, 
as  Netty  calls  you  when  she  speaks  of  you  in  private : 
Mart  Tinman's  ideas  of  wine  are  pretty  much  like  his  ideas 
of  healthy  smells,  and  when  I  'm  bailiff  of  Crikswich,  mind, 


120  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

he  '11  find  two  to  one  against  him  in  our  town-o»tuncil.  1 
love  my  country,  but  hang  me  if  I  don't  purify  it ,  fl 

Saying  this,  with  the  excitement  of  a  high  resi  We  upon 
him,  Van  Diemen  bored  through  a  shrubbery-biake,  and 
Fellinghani  said  to  Annette  :  "  Have  I  lost  you  ?  " 

"  I  belong  to  my  father,"  said  she,  contracting  and  dis- 
engaging her  feminine  garments  to  step  after  him  in  the 
cold  silver-spotted  dusk  of  the  winter  woods. 

Van  Diemen  came  out  on  a  fish-pond. 

"  Here  you  are,  young  ones  !  "  he  said  to  the  pair.  "  This 
way,  Fellowman.  I  'm  clearer  now,  and  it 's  my  belief  I  've 
been  talking  nonsense.  I  'm  puffed  up  with  money,  and 
have  n't  the  heart  I  once  had.  I  say,  Fellowman,  Fellow- 
bird,  Hubbard  —  what 's  your  right  name  ?  —  fancy  an  old 
carp  fished  out  of  that  pond  and  flung  into  the  sea.  That 's 
exile  !     And  if  the  girl  don't  mind,  what  does  it  matter  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Herbert  Fellingham,  I  think,  would  like  to  go  to 
bed,  papa,"  said  Annette. 

"Miss  Smith  must  be  getting  cold,"  Fellingham  hinted. 

"  Bounce  away  indoors,"  replied  Van  Diemen,  and  he  led 
them  like  a  bull. 

Annette  was  disinclined  to  leave  them  together  in  the 
smoking-room,  and  under  the  pretext  of  wishing  to  see  her 
father  to  bed  she  remained  with  them,  though  there  was  a 
novel  directness  and  heat  of  tone  in  Herbert  that  alarmed 
her,  and  with  reason.  He  divined  in  hideous  outlines  what 
had  happened.  He  was  no  longer  figuring  on  easy  ice,  but 
desperate  at  the  prospect  of  a  loss  to  himself,  and  a  fate 
for  Annette,  that  tossed  him  from  repulsion  to  incredulity, 
and  so  back. 

Van  Diemen  begged  him  to  light  his  pipe. 

"  I  'm  off  to  London  to-morrow,"  said  Fellingham.  "  I 
don't  want  to  go,  for  very  particular  reasons ;  I  may  be  of 
more  use  there.  I  have  a  cousin  who 's  a  General  officer 
in  the  army,  and  if  I  have  your  permission  —  you  see, 
anything 's  better,  as  it  seems  to  me,  than  that  you  should 
depend  for  peace  and  comfort  on  one  man's  tongue  not 
wagging,  especially  when  he  is  not  the  best  of  tempers  — 
if  I  have  your  permission  —  without  mentioning  names,  of 
course  —  I  '11  consult  him." 

There  was  a  dead  silence. 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  UEACH  121 

"  You  know  you  may  trust  me,  sir.  I  love  your  daughter 
with  all  my  heart.  Your  honour  and  your  interests  are 
mine." 

Van  Diemen  struggled  for  composure. 

"  Netty,  what  have  you  been  at  ?  "  he  said. 

"  It  is  untrue,  papa ! "  she  answered  the  unworded 
accusation. 

"  Annette  has  told  me  nothing,  sir.  I  have  heard  it. 
You  must  brace  your  mind  to  the  fact  that  it  is  known. 
What  is  known  to  Mr.  Tinman  is  pretty  sure  to  be  known 
generally  at  the  next  disagreement." 

"  That  scoundrel  Mart !  "  Van  Diemen  muttered. 

"  I  am  positive  Mr.  Tinman  did  not  speak  of  you,  papa," 
said  Annette,  and  turned  her  eyes  from  the  half-paralyzed 
figure  of  her  father  on  Herbert  to  put  him  to  proof. 

"  No,  but  he  made  himself  heard  when  it  was  being  dis- 
cussed. At  any  rate,  it's  known;  and  the  thing  to  do  is 
to  meet  it." 

"  I  'm  off.  I  '11  not  stop  a  day.  I  'd  rather  live  on  the 
Continent,"  said  Van  Diemen,  shaking  himself,  as  to  pre- 
pare for  the  step  into  that  desert. 

"Mr.  Tinman  has  been  most  generous!"  Annette  pro- 
tested tearfully. 

"  I  won't  say  no :  I  think  you  are  deceived  and  lend 
him  your  own  generosity,"  said  Herbert.  "Can  you  sup- 
pose it  generous,  that  even  in  the  extremest  case,  he  should 
speak  of  the  matter  to  your  father,  and  talk  of  denouncing 
him  ?     He  did  it." 

"  He  was  provoked." 

"  A  gentleman  is  distinguished  by  his  not  allowing  him- 
self to  be  provoked." 

"  I  am  engaged  to  him,  and  I  cannot  hear  it  said  that  he 
is  not  a  gentleman." 

The  first  part  of  her  sentence  Annette  uttered  bravely; 
at  the  conclusion  she  broke  down.  She  wished  Herbert 
to  be  aware  of  the  truth,  that  he  might  stay  his  attacks 
on  Mr.  Tinman ;  and  she  believed  he  had  only  been  guess- 
ing the  circumstances  in  which  her  father  was  placed;  but 
the  comparison  between  her  two  suitors  forced  itself  on 
her  now,  when  the  younger  one  spoke  in  a  manner  so  self- 
contained,  brief,  and  full  of  feeling. 


122  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

She  had  to  leave  the  room  weeping. 

"  Has  your  daughter  engaged  herself,  sir  ?  "  said  Herbert. 

"  Talk  to  me  to-morrow  ;  don't  give  us  up  if  she  has  — 
we  were  trapped,  it's  my  opinion,"  said  Van  Diemen. 
"  There 's  the  devil  in  that  wine  of  Mart  Tinman's. 
I  feel  it  still,  and  in  the  morning  it'll  be  worse.  What 
can  she  see  in  him  ?  I  must  quit  the  country ;  carry 
her  off.  How  he  did  it,  I  don't  know.  It  was  that 
woman,  the  widow,  the  fellow's  sister.  She  talked  till 
she  piped  her  eye — talked  about  our  lasting  union.  On 
my  soul,  I  believe  I  egged  Netty  on !  I  was  in  a  molli- 
fied way  with  that  wine  ;  all  of  a  sudden  the  woman  joins 
their  hands !  And  I  —  a  man  of  spirit  will  despise  me ! 
—  what  I  thought  of  was,  '  now  my  secret 's  safe  ! '  You  've 
sobered  me,  young  sir.  I  see  myself,  if  that 's  being  sober. 
I  don't  ask  your  opinion  of  me  ;  I  am  a  deserter,  false  to 
my  colours,  a  breaker  of  his  oath.  Only  mark  this :  I  was 
married,  and  a  common  trooper,  married  to  a  handsome 
young  woman,  true  as  steel ;  but  she  was  handsome,  and 
we  were  starvation  poor,  and  she  had  to  endure  persecution 
from  an  officer  day  by  day.  Bear  that  situation  in  your 
mind.  Providence  dropped  me  a  hundred  pounds  out  of 
the  sky.  Properly  speaking,  it  popped  up  out  of  the  earth, 
for  I  reaped  it,  you  may  say,  from  a  relative's  grave. 
Rich  and  poor's  all  right,  if  I'm  rich  and  you're  poor; 
and  you  may  be  happy  though  you  're  poor ;  but  where 
there  are  many  poor  young  women,  lots  of  rich  men  are 
a  terrible  temptation  to  them.  That 's  my  dear  good  wife 
speaking,  and  had  she  been  spared  to  me  I  never  should 
have  come  back  to  Old  England,  and  heart's  delight  and 
heartache  I  should  not  have  known.  She  was  my  back- 
bone, she  was  my  breast-comforter  too.  Why  did  she 
stick  to  me  ?  Because  I  had  faith  in  her  when  appearances 
were  against  her.  But  she  never  forgave  this  country  the 
hurt  to  her  woman's  pride.  You  '11  have  noticed  a  squarish 
jaw  in  Netty.  That 's  her  mother.  And  I  shall  have  to 
encounter  it,  supposing  I  find  Mart  Tinman  has  been  play- 
ing me  false.  I  'm  blown  on  somehow.  I  '11  think  of  what 
course  I  '11  take  'twixt  now  and  morning.  Good  night, 
young  gentleman." 

"  Good  night,   sir,"  said   Herbert,  adding,   "  I  will   get 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH  123 

information  from  the  Horse  Guards ;  as  for  the  people 
knowing  it  about  here,  you  're  not  living  much  in 
society " 

"It's  not  other  people's  feelings,  it's  my  own,"  Van 
Diemen  silenced  him.  "I  feel  it,  if  it's  in  the  wind; 
ever  since  Mart  Tinman  spoke  the  thing  out,  I  've  felt  on 
my  skin  cold  and  hot." 

He  flourished  his  lighted  candle  and  went  to  bed,  mani- 
festly solaced  by  the  idea  that  he  was  the  victim  of  his 
own  feelings. 

Herbert  could  not  sleep.  Annette's  monstrous  choice 
of  Tinman  in  preference  to  himself  constantly  assailed  and 
shook  his  understanding.  There  was  the  "  squarish  jaw  " 
mentioned  by  her  father  to  think  of.  It  filled  him  with  a 
vague  apprehension,  but  he  was  unable  to  imagine  that  a 
young  girl,  and  an  English  girl,  and  an  enthusiastic  young 
English  girl,  could  be  devoid  of  sentiment ;  and  presuming 
her  to  have  it,  as  one  must,  there  was  no  fear  that  she 
would  persist  in  her  loathsome  choice  when  she  knew  her 
father  was  against  it. 


CHAPTER   IX 


Annette  did  not  shun  him  next  morning.  She  did  not 
shun  the  subject,  either.  But  she  had  been  exact  in 
arranging  that  she  should  not  be  more  than  a  few  minutes 
downstairs  before  her  father.  Herbert  found,  that  com- 
pared with  her,  gi  Is  of  sentiment  are  commonplace  indeed. 
She  had  conceived  an  insane  idea  of  nobility  in  Tinman 
that  blinded  her  to  his  face,  figure,  and  chai-acter  —  his 
manners,  likewise.     He  had  forgiven  a  blow  ! 

Silly  as  the  delusion  might  be,  it  clothed  her  in  whimsical 
attractiveness. 

It  was  a  beauty  in  her  to  dwell  so  firmly  upon  moral 
quality.  Overthrown  and  stunned  as  he  was,  and  reduced 
to  helplessness  by  her  brief  and  positive  replies,  Herbert 
was  obliged  to  admire  the  singular  young  lady,  who  spoke, 
without  much  shyness,  of  her  incongruous,  destined  mate 


124  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

though  his  admiration  had  an  edge  cutting  like  irony. 
While  in  the  turn  for  candour,  she  ought  to  have  told  him, 
that  previous  to  her  decision  she  had  weighed  the  case  of 
the  diverse  claims  of  himself  and  Tinman,  and  resolved 
them  according  to  her  predilection  for  the  peaceful  resi- 
dence of  her  father  and  herself  in  England.  This  she  had 
done  a  little  regretfully,  because  of  the  natural  sympathy 
of  the  young  girl  for  the  younger  man.  But  the  younger 
man  had  seemed  to  her  seriously -straightforward  mind  too 
light  and  airy  in  his  wooing,  like  one  of  her  waltzing 
officers  —  very  well  so  long  as  she  stepped  the  measure 
with  him,  and  not  forcible  enough  to  take  her  off  her  feet. 
He  had  changed,  and  now  that  he  had  become  persuasive, 
she  feared  he  would  disturb  the  serenity  with  which  she 
desired  and  strove  to  contemplate  her  decision.  Tinman's 
magnanimity  was  present  in  her  imagination  to  sustaip 
her,  though  she  was  aware  that  Mrs.  Cavely  had  surprised 
her  will,  and  caused  it  to  surrender  unconsulted  by  he* 
wiser  intelligence. 

"  I  cannot  listen  to  you,"  she  said  to  Herbert,  after 
listening  longer  than  was  prudent.  "  If  what  you  say  of 
papa  is  true,  I  do  not  think  he  will  remain  in  Crikswich, 
or  even  in  England.  But  I  am  sure  the  old  friend  we  used 
to  speak  of  so  much  in  Australia  has  not  wilfully  betrayed 
him." 

Herbert  would  have  had  to  say,  "  Look  on  us  two  !  "  to 
proceed  in  his  baffled  wooing ;  and  the  very  ludicrousness 
of  the  contrast  led  him  to  see  the  folly  and  shame  of 
proposing  it. 

Van  Diemen  came  down  to  breakfast  looking  haggard 
and  restless.  "  I  have  n't  had  my  morning's  walk  —  I  can't 
go  out  to  be  hooted,"  he  said,  calling  to  his  daughter  for 
tea,  and  strong  tea ;  and  explaining  to  Herbert  that  he 
knew  it  to  be  bad  for  the  nerves,  but  it  was  an  antidote  to 
bad  champagne. 

Mr.  Herbert  Fellingham  had  previously  received  an  invi- 
tation on  behalf  of  a  sister  of  his  to  Crikswich.  A  dull 
sense  of  genuine  sagacity  inspired  him  to  remind  Annette 
of  it.  She  wrote  prettily  to  Miss  Mary  Fellingham,  and 
Herbert  had  some  faint  joy  in  carrying  away  the  letter  of 
her  handwriting. 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH         125 

"Fetch  her  soon,  for  we  sha'n't  be  here  long,"  Van 
Dienien  said  to  him  at  parting.  He  expressed  a  certain 
dread  of  his  next  meeting  with  Mart  Tinman. 

Herbert  speedily  brought  Mary  Fellingham  to  Elba,  and 
left  her  there.  The  situation  was  apparently  unaltered. 
Van  Diemen  looked  worn,  like  a  man  who  has  been  feeding 
mainly  on  his  reflections,  which  was  manifest  in  his  few 
melancholy  bits  of  speech.  He  said  to  Herbert:  "How 
you  feel  a  thing  when  you  are  found  out ! "  and,  "  It 
does  n't  do  for  a  man  with  a  heart  to  do  wrong !  "  He 
designated  the  two  principal  roads  by  which  poor  sinners 
come  to  a  conscience.  His  own  would  have  slumbered  but 
for  discovery ;  and,  as  he  remarked,  if  it  had  not  been  for 
his  heart  leading  him  to  Tinman,  he  would  not  have  fallen 
into  that  man's  power. 

The  arrival  of  a  young  lady  of  fashionable  appearance 
at  Elba  was  matter  of  cogitation  to  Mrs.  Cavely.  She  was 
disposed  to  suspect  that  it  meant  something,  and  Van 
Diemen's  behaviour  to  her  brother  would  of  itself  have 
fortified  any  suspicion.  He  did  not  call  at  the  house  on 
the  beach,  he  did  not  invite  Martin  to  dinner,  he  was  rarely 
seen,  and  when  he  appeared  at  the  Town  Council  he  once  or 
twice  violently  opposed  his  friend  Martin,  who  came  home 
ruffled,  deeply  offended  in  his  interests  and  his  dignity. 

"  Have  you  noticed  any  difference  in  Annette's  treatment 
of  you,  dear  ?  ''  Mrs.  Cavely  inquired. 

"  No,"  said  Tinman ;  "  none.  She  shakes  hands.  She 
asks  after  my  health.     She  offers  me  my  cup  of  tea." 

"I  have  seen  all  that.  But  does  she  avoid  privacy 
with  you  ?  " 

"Dear  me,  no!  Why  should  she?  I  hope,  Martha,  I 
am  a  man  who  may  be  confided  in  by  any  young  lady  in 
England." 

"  I  am  sure  you  may,  dear  Martin." 

"  She  has  an  objection  to  name  the  .  .  .  the  day,"  said 
Martin.  "  I  have  informed  her  that  I  have  an  objection  to 
long  engagements.  I  don't  like  her  new  companion.  She 
says  she  has  been  presented  at  Court.     I  greatly  doubt  it." 

"  It 's  to  give  herself  a  style,  you  may  depend.  I  don't 
believe  her !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Cavely,  with  sharp  personal 
asperity. 


126  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 


Brother  and  sister  examined  together  the  Court  Guide 
they  had  purchased  on  the  occasion  at  once  of  their  largest 
outlay  and  most  thrilling  gratification ;  in  it  they  certainly 
found  the  name  of  General  Fellingham.  "*  But  he  can't  be 
related  to  a  newspaper-writer,"  said  Mrs.  Cavely. 

To  which  her  brother  rejoined,  "  Unless  the  young  man 
turned  scamp.     I  hate  unproductive  professions." 

"I  hate  him,  Martin."  Mrs.  Cavely  laughed  in  scorn 
"  I  should  say,  I  pity  him.  It 's  as  clear  to  me  as  the  sub 
at  noonday,  he  wanted  Annette.  That 's  why  I  was  in 
a  hurry.  How  I  dreaded  he  would  come  that  evening  to 
our  dinner !  When  I  saw  him  absent,  I  could  have  cried 
out  it  was  Providence  !  And  so  be  careful  —  we  have  had 
everything  done  for  us  from  on  High  as  yet  —  but  be  care- 
ful of  your  temper,  dear  Martin.  I  will  hasten  on  the 
union ;  for  it 's  a  shame  of  a  girl  to  drag  a  man  behind  her 
till  he  's  old  at  the  altar.  Temper,  dear,  if  you  will  only 
think  of  it,  is  the  weak  point." 

"Now  he  has  begun  boasting  to  me  of  his  Australian 
wines  !  "  Tinman  ejaculated. 

"  Bear  it.  Bear  it  as  you  do  Gippsland.  My  dear,  you 
have  the  retort  in  your  heart :  —  Yes  !  but  have  you  a 
Court  in  Australia  ?  " 

"  Ha !  and  his  Australian  wines  cost  twice  the  amount 
I  pay  for  mine  ! " 

"  Quite  true.  We  are  not  obliged  to  buy  them,  I  should 
hope.  I  would,  though  —  a  dozen  —  if  I  thought  it  neces- 
sary, to  keep  him  quiet." 

Tinman  continued  muttering  angrily  over  the  Australian 
wines,  with  a  word  of  irritation  at  Gippsland,  while  prom- 
ising to  be  watchful  of  his  temper. 

"  What  good  is  Australia  to  us,"  he  asked,  "  if  it  does  n't 
bring  us  money  ?  " 

"  It 's  going  to,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Cavely.  "  Think  of 
that  when  he  begins  boasting  his  Australia.  And  though 
it 's  convict's  money,  as  he  confesses " 

"With  his  convict's  money!"  Tinman  interjected  trem- 
blingly.    "  How  long  am  I  expected  to  wait  ?  " 

"Rely  on  me  to  hurry  on  the  day,"  said  Mrs.  Cavely. 
"There  is  no  other  annoyance?" 

"  Wherever  I  am  going  to  buy,  that  man  outbids  me !  — 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH         127 

and  then  says  it 's  the  old  country's  want  of  pluck  and 
dash,  and  doing  things  large-handed  !  A  man  who  'd  go 
on  his  knees  to  stop  in  England!  "  Tinman  vociferated  in 
a  breath;  and  fairly  reddened  by  the  effort:  "He  may 
have  to  do  it  yet.     I  can't  stand  insult." 

"You  are  less  able  to  stand  insult  after  Honours,"  his 
sister  said,  in  obedience  to  what  she  had  observed  of  him 
since  his  famous  visit  to  London.  "It  must  be  so,  in 
nature.  But  temper  is  everything  just  now.  Remember, 
it  was  by  command  of  temper,  and  letting  her  father  put 
himself  in  the  wrong,  you  got  hold  of  Annette.  And  I 
would  abstain  even  from  wine.  For  sometimes  after  it, 
you  have  owned  it  disagreed.  And  I  have  noticed  these 
eruptions  between  you  and  Mr.  Smith  —  as  he  calls  himself 
—  generally  after  wine." 

"  Always  the  poor !  the  poor !  money  for  the  poor !  "  Tin- 
man harped  on  further  grievances  against  Van  Diemen. 
"I  say  doctors  have  said  the  drain  on  the  common  is 
healthy;  it 's  a  healthy  smell,  nourishing.  We  've  always 
had  it  and  been  a  healthy  town.  But  the  sea  encroaches, 
and  I  say  my  house  and  my  property  is  in  danger.  He 
buys  my  house  over  my  head,  and  offers  me  the  Crouch  to 
live  in  at  an  advanced  rent.  And  then  he  sells  me  my 
house  at  an  advanced  price,  and  I  buy,  and  then  he  votes 
against  a  penny  for  the  protection  of  the  shore!  And 
we  're  in  Winter  again!     As  if  he  was  not  in  my  power!  " 

"  My  dear  Martin,  to  Elba  we  go,  and  soon,  if  you  will 
govern  your  temper,"  said  Mrs.  Cavely.  "  You  're  an  angel 
to  let  me  speak  of  it  so,  and  it 's  only  that  man  that  irritates 
you.     I  call  him  sinfully  ostentatious." 

"I  could  blow  him  from  a  gun  if  I  spoke  out,  and  he 
knows  it!  He's  wanting  in  common  gratitude,  let  alone 
respect,"  Tinman  snorted. 

"But  he  has  a  daughter,  my  dear." 

Tinman  slowly  and  crackingly  subsided. 

His  main  grievance  against  Van  Diemen  was  the  non- 
recognition  of  his  importance  by  that  uncultured  Austra- 
lian, who  did  not  seem  to  be  conscious  of  the  dignities  and 
distinctions  we  come  to  in  our  country.  The  moneyed 
daughter,    the    prospective   marriage,    for   an   economical 


128  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

man  rejected  by  every  lady  surrounding  him,  advised  him 
to  lock  up  his  temper  in  submission  to  Martha. 

"Bring  Annette  to  dine  with  us,"  he  said,  on  Martha's 
proposing  a  visit  to  the  dear  young  creature. 

Martha  drank  a  glass  of  her  brother's  wine  at  lunch,  and 
departed  on  the  mission. 

Annette  declined  to  be  brought.  Her  excuse  was  her 
guest,  Miss  Fellingham. 

"Bring  her  too,  by  all  means  —  if  you  '11  condescend,  I 
am  sure,"  Mrs.  Cavely  said  to  Mary. 

"I  am  much  obliged  to  you;  I  do  not  dine  out  at 
present,"  said  the  London  lady. 

"  Dear  me !  are  you  ill  ?  " 

"No." 

"Nothing  in  the  family,  I  hope?" 

"My  family?" 

"I  am  sure,  I  beg  pardon,"  said  Mrs.  Cavely,  bridling 
with  a  spite  pardonable  by  the  severest  moralist. 

"  Can  I  speak  to  you  alone  ?  "  she  addressed  Annette. 

Miss  Fellingham  rose. 

Mrs.  Cavely  confronted  her.  "I  can't  allow  it;  I  can't 
think  of  it.  I  'm  only  taking  a  little  liberty  with  one  I 
may  call  my  future  sister-in-law." 

"  Shall  I  come  out  with  you  ? "  said  Annette,  in  sheer 
lassitude  assisting  Mary  Fellingham  in  her  scheme  to  show 
the  distastefulness  of  this  lady  and  her  brother. 

"Not  if  you  don't  wish  to." 

"I  have  no  objection." 

"Another  time  will  do." 

"  Will  you  write  ?  " 

"By  post  indeed!  " 

Mrs.  Cavely  delivered  a  laugh  supposed  to  be  peculiar  to 
the  English  stage. 

"It  would  be  a  penny  thrown  away,"  said  Annette.  "I 
thought  you  could  send  a  messenger." 

Intercommunication  with  Miss  Fellingham  had  done 
mischief  to  her  high  moral  conception  of  the  pair  inhabit- 
ing the  house  on  the  beach. 

Mrs.  Cavely  saw  it,  and  could  not  conceal  that  she 
6marted. 

Her  counsel  to  her  brother,  after  recounting  the  offensive 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH  129 

scene  to  him  in  animated  dialogue,  was,  to  give  Van 
Dieinen  a  fright. 

"I  wish  I  had  not  drunk  that  glass  of  sherry  before 
starting,"  she  exclaimed,  both  savagely  and  sagely.  "It 's 
best  after  business.  And  these  gentlemen's  habits  of 
yours  of  taking  to  dining  late  upset  me.  I  'm  afraid  I 
showed  temper;  but  you,  Martin,  would  not  have  borne 
one-tenth  of  what  I  did." 

"How  dare  you  say  so!  "  her  brother  rebuked  her  indig- 
nantly; and  the  house  on  the  beach  enclosed  with  difficulty 
A  storm  between  brother  and  sister,  happily  not  heard 
outside,  because  of  loud  winds  raging. 

Nevertheless  Tinman  pondered  on  Martha's  idea  of  the 
wisdom  of  giving  Van  Dieinen  a  fright. 


CHAPTER  X 


The  English  have  been  called  a  bad-tempered  people,  but 
this  is  to  judge  of  them  by  their  manifestations;  whereas 
an  examination  into  causes  might  prove  them  to  be  no 
worse  tempered  than  that  man  is  a  bad  sleeper  who  lies  in 
a  biting  bed.  If  a  sagacious  instinct  directs  them  to  dis- 
countenance realistic  tales,  the  realistic  tale  should  justify 
its  appearance  by  the  discovery  of  an  apology  for  the  tor- 
mented souls.  Once  they  sang  madrigals,  once  they  danced 
on  the  green,  they  revelled  in  their  lusty  humours,  without 
having  recourse  to  the  pun  for  fun,  an  exhibition  of  hun- 
dreds of  bare  legs  for  jollity,  a  sentimental  wailing  all  in 
the  throat  for  music.  Evidence  is  procurable  that  they 
have  been  an  artificially-reared  people,  feeding  on  the 
genius  of  inventors,  transposers,  adulterators,  instead  of 
the  products  of  nature,  for  the  last  half  century ;  and  it  is 
unfair  to  affirm  of  them  that  they  are  positively  this  or 
that.  They  are  experiments.  They  are  the  sons  and 
victims  of  a  desperate  Energy,  alluring  by  cheapness, 
satiating  with  quantity,  that  it  may  mount  in  the  social 
scale,  at  the  expense  of  their  tissues.     The  land  is  in  a 


130  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

state  of  fermentation  to  mount,  and  the  shop,  which  has 
shot  half  their  stars  to  their  social  zenith,  is  what  verily 
they  would  scald  themselves  to  wash  themselves  free  of. 
Nor  is  it  in  any  degree  a  reprehensible  sign  that  they 
should  fly  as  from  hue  and  cry  the  title  of  tradesman.  It 
is  on  the  contrary  the  spot  of  sanity,  which  bids  us  right 
cordially  hope.  Energy,  transferred  to  the  moral  sense, 
may  clear  them  yet. 

Meanwhile  this  beer,  this  wine,  both  are  of  a  character 
to  have  killed  more  than  the  tempers  of  a  less  gifted  people. 
Martin  Tinman  invited  Van  Diemen  Smith  to  try  the 
flavour  of  a  wine  that,  as  he  said,  he  thought  of  "laying 
down." 

It  has  been  hinted  before  of  a  strange  effect  upon  the 
minds  of  men  who  knew  what  they  were  going  to,  when 
they  received  an  invitation  to  dine  with  Tinman.  For  the 
sake  of  a  little  social  meeting  at  any  cost,  they  accepted 
it;  accepted  it  with  a  sigh,  midway  as  by  engineering 
measurement  between  prospective  and  retrospective;  as 
nearly  mechanical  as  things  human  may  be,  like  the  Mus- 
sulman's accustomed  cry  of  Kismet.  Has  it  not  been  re- 
lated of  the  little  Jew  babe  sucking  at  its  mother's  breast 
iu  Jerusalem,  that  this  innocent,  long  after  the  Captivity, 
would  start  convulsively,  relinquishing  its  feast,  and  in- 
dulging in  the  purest  Hebrew  lamentation  of  the  most 
tenacious  of  races,  at  the  passing  sound  of  a  Babylonian 
or  a  Ninevite  voice  ?  In  some  such  maimer  did  men, 
unable  to  refuse,  deep  in  what  remained  to  them  of  nature, 
listen  to  Tinman;  and  so  did  Van  Diemen,  sighing  heavily 
under  the  operation  of  simple  animal  instinct. 

"You  seem  miserable,"  said  Tinman,  not  oblivious  of  his 
design  to  give  his  friend  a  fright. 

"  Do  I  ?  No,  I  'm  all  right, "  Van  Diemen  replied.  "  I  'm 
thinking  of  alterations  at  the  Hall  before  Summer,  to 
accommodate  guests  —  if  I  stay  here." 

"I  suppose  you  would  not  like  to  be  separated  from 
Annette." 

"Separated?  No,  I  should  think  I  shouldn't.  Who'd 
doit?" 

"Because  I  should  not  like  to  leave  my  good  sister 
Martha  all  to  herself  in  a  house  so  near  the  sea-" 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH  131 

"  Why  not  go  to  the  Crouch,  man  ?  " 

"Thank  you." 

"  No  thanks  needed  if  you  don't  take  advantage  of  the 
offer." 

They  were  at  the  entrance  to  Elba,  whither  Mr.  Tinman 
was  betaking  himself  to  see  his  intended.  He  asked  if 
Annette  was  at  home,  and  to  his  great  stupefaction  heard 
that  she  had  gone  to  London  for  a  week. 

Dissembling  the  spite  aroused  within  him,  he  postponed 
his  very  strongly  fortified  design,  and  said,  "You  must  be 
lonely." 

Van  Diemen  informed  him  that  it  would  be  for  a  night 
mly,  as  young  Fellingham  was  coming  down  to  keep  him. 
company. 

"At  six  o'clock  this  evening,  then,"  said  Tinman. 
"We're  not  fashionable  in  Winter." 

"Hang  me,  if  I  know  when  ever  we  were! "  Van  Diemen 
rejoined. 

"  Come,  though,  you  'd  like  to  be.  You  've  got  your 
ambition,  Philip,  like  other  men." 

"  Respectable  and  respected  —  that 's  my  ambition,  Mr. 
Mart." 

Tinman  simpered :  "  With  your  wealth !  " 

"  Ay,  I  'm  rich  —  for  a  contented  mind." 

"I  'm  pretty  sure  you  '11  approve  my  new  vintage,"  said 
Tinman.  "  It 's  direct  from  Oporto,  my  wine-merchant  tells 
me,  on  his  word." 

"  What 's  the  price  ?  " 

"No,  no,  no.     Try  it  first.     It 's  rather  a  stiff  price." 

Van  Diemen  was  partially  reassured  by  the  announce- 
ment.    "  What  do  you  call  a  stiff  price  ?  " 

"Well!— over  thirty." 

"Double  that,  and  you  may  have  a  chance." 

"Now,"  cried  Tinman,  exasperated,  "how  can  a  man 
from  Australia  know  anything  about  prices  for  port?  You 
can't  divest  your  ideas  of  diggers'  prices.  You  're  like  an 
intoxicating  drink  yourself  on  the  tradesmen  of  our  town. 
You  think  it  fine  —  ha!  ha!  I  daresay,  Philip,  I  should 
be  doing  the  same  if  I  were  up  to  your  mark  at  my 
banker's.     We  can't  all  of  us  be  lords,  nor  baronets." 

Catching  up  his   temper  thus  cleverly,  he   curbed  that 


132  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

habitual  runaway,  and  retired  from  his  old  friend's  pres- 
ence to  explode  in  the  society  of  the  solitary  Martha. 

Annette's  behaviour  was  as  bitterly  criticized  by  the 
sister  as  by  the  brother. 

"  She  has  gone  to  those  Fellingham  people ;  and  she  may 
be  thinking  of  jilting  us,"  Mrs.  Cavely  said. 

"  In  that  case,  I  have  no  mercy,"  cried  her  brother.  "  I 
have  borne"  —  he  bowed  with  a  professional  spiritual 
humility  —  "as  I  should,  but  it  may  get  past  endurance. 
I  say  I  have  borne  enough ;  and  if  the  worst  comes  to  the 
worst,  and  I  hand  him  over  to  the  authorities  —  I  say  I 
mean  him  no  harm,  but  he  has  struck  me.  He  beat  me  as 
a  boy  and  he  has  struck  me  as  a  man,  and  I  say  I  have  no 
thought  of  revenge,  but  I  cannot  have  him  here;  and  I 
say  if  I  drive  him  out  of  the  country  back  to  his  Gipps- 
laud » 

Martin  Tinman  quivered  for  speech,  probably  for  that 
which  feedeth  speech,  as  is  the  way  with  angry  men. 

"  And  what  ?  what  then  ?  "  said  Martha,  with  the  tender 
mellifluous aess  of  sisterly  reproach.  "  What  good  can  you 
expect  of  letting  temper  get  the  better  of  you,  dear  ?  " 

Tinman  did  not  enjoy  her  recent  turn  for  usurping  the 
lead  in  their  consultations,  and  he  said,  tartly,  "  This  good, 
Martha.  We  shall  get  the  Hall  at  my  price,  and  be  Head 
People  here.  Which,"  he  raised  his  note,  "which  he,  a 
Deserter,  has  no  right  to  pretend  to  give  himself  out  to  be. 
What  your  feelings  may  be  as  an  old  inhabitant,  I  don't 
know,  but  I  have  always  looked  up  to  the  people  at  Elba 
Hall,  and  I  say  I  don't  like  to  have  a  Deserter  squandering 
convict's  money  there  —  with  his  forty-pound-a-year  cook, 
and  his  champagne  at  seventy  a  dozen.  It 's  the  luxury  of 
Sodom  and  Gomorrah." 

"That  does  not  prevent  its  being  very  nice  to  dine 
there,"  said  Mrs.  Cavely;  "and  it  shall  be  our  table  for 
good  if  I  have  any  management." 

"You  mean  me,  ma'am,"  bellowed  Tinman. 

"Not  at  all,"  she  breathed,  in  dulcet  contrast.  "You 
are  good-looking,  Martin,  but  you  have  not  half  such  pretty 
eyes  as  the  person  I  mean.  I  never  ventured  to  dream  of 
managing  you,  Martin.  I  am  thinking  of  the  people  at 
Elba." 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH         133 

"But  why  this  extraordinary  treatment  of  me,  Martha  ?  " 

"She  's  a  child,  having  her  head  turned  by  those  Felling- 
hams.  But  she's  honourable;  she  has  sworn  to  me  she 
would  be  honourable." 

"  You  do  think  I  may  as  well  give  him  a  fright  ?  "  Tin- 
man inquired  hungrily. 

"A  sort  of  hint;  but  very  gentle,  Martin.  Do  be  gentle 
—  casual  like  —  as  if  you  didn't  want  to  say  it.  Get  him 
on  his  Gippsland.  Then  if  he  brings  you  to  words,  you 
can  always  laugh  back,  and  say  you  will  go  to  Kew  and 
see  the  Fernery,  and  fancy  all  that,  so  high,  on  Helvellyn 
or  the  Downs.  Why  "  —  Mrs.  Cavely,  at  the  end  of  her 
astute  advices  and  cautionings,  as  usual,  gave  loose  to  her 
natural  character  —  "  Why  that  man  came  back  to  England 
at  all,  with  his  boastings  of  Gippsland,  I  can't  for  the  life 
of  me  find  out.     It 's  a  perfect  mystery." 

"It  is,"  Tinman  sounded  his  voice  at  a  great  depth,  re- 
flectively. Glad  of  taking  the  part  she  was  perpetually 
assuming  of  late,  he  put  out  his  hand  and  said:  "But  it 
may  have  been  ordained  for  our  good,  Martha." 

"True,  dear,"  said  she,  with  an  earnest  sentiment  of 
thankfulness  to  the  Bower  which  had  led  him  round  to 
her  way  of  thinking  and  feeling. 


CHABTEK,  XI 


Annette  had  gone  to  the  big  metropolis,  which  burns  in 
colonial  imaginations  as  the  sun  of  cities,  and  was  about  to 
see  something  of  London,  under  the  excellent  auspices  of 
her  new  friend,  Mary  Fellingham,  and  a  dense  fog.  She 
was  alarmed  by  the  darkness,  a  little  in  fear,  too,  of 
Herbert;  and  these  feelings  caused  her  to  chide  herself  for 
leaving  her  father. 

Hearing  her  speak  of  her  father  sadly,  Herbert  kindly 
proposed  to  go  down  to  Crikswich  on  the  very  day  of  her 
coming.  She  thanked  him,  and  gave  him  a  taste  of  bitter- 
ness by  smiling  favourably  on  his  offer;  but  as  he  wished 
her  to  discern  and  take  to  heart  the  difference  between  one 


134  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

man  and  another,  in  the  light  of  a  suitor,  he  let  her  per- 
ceive that  it  cost  him  heavy  pangs  to  depart  immediately, 
and  left  her  to  brood  on  his  example.  Mary  Fellingham 
liked  Annette.  She  thought  her  a  sensible  girl  of  uncul- 
tivated sensibilities,  the  reverse  of  thousands ;  not  common- 
place, therefore;  and  that  the  sensibilities  were  expanding 
was  to  be  seen  in  her  gradual  unreadiness  to  talk  of  her 
engagement  to  Mr.  Tinman,  though  her  intimacy  with 
Mary  warmed  daily.  She  considered  she  was  bound  to 
marry  the  man  at  some  distant  date,  and  did  not  feel  un- 
happiness  yet.  She  had  only  felt  uneasy  when  she  had  to 
greet  and  converse  with  her  intended;  especially  when  the 
London  young  lady  had  been  present.  Herbert's  departure 
relieved  her  of  the  pressing  sense  of  contrast.  She  praised 
him  to  Mary  for  his  extreme  kindness  to  her  father,  and 
down  in  her  unsounded  heart  desired  that  her  father 
might  appreciate  it  even  more  than  she  did. 

Herbert  drove  into  Crikswich  at  night,  and  stopped  at 
Crickledon's,  where  he  heard  that  Van  Diemen  was  dining 
with  Tinman. 

Crickledon  the  carpenter  permitted  certain  dry  curves  to 
play  round  his  lips  like  miniature  shavings  at  the  name  of 
Tinman ;  but  Herbert  asked,  "  What  is  it  now  ? "  in  vain, 
and  he  went  to  Crickledon  the  cook. 

This  union  of  the  two  Crickledons,  male  and  female,  was 
an  ideal  one,  such  as  poor  women  dream  of;  and  men 
would  do  the  same,  if  they  knew  how  poor  they  are.  Each 
had  a  profession,  each  was  independent  of  the  other,  each 
supported  the  fabric.  Consequently  there  was  mutual 
respect,  as  between  two  pillars  of  a  house.  Each  saw  the 
other's  faults  with  a  sly  wink  to  the  world,  and  an  occa- 
sional interchange  of  sarcasm  that  was  tonic,  very  strength- 
ening to  the  wits  without  endangering  the  habit  of  affection. 
Crickledon  the  cook  stood  for  her  own  opinions,  and  directed 
the  public  conduct  of  Crickledon  the  carpenter;  and  if  he 
went  astray  from  the  line  she  marked  out,  she  put  it  down 
to  human  nature,  to  which  she  was  tolerant.  He,  when 
she  had  not  followed  his  advice,  ascribed  it  to  the  nature 
of  women.  She  never  said  she  was  the  equal  of  her  hus- 
band; but  the  carpenter  proudly  acknowledged  that  she 
(was  as  good  «*,s  a  man,  and  he  bore  with  foibles  rathei 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH  135 

derogatory  to  such  high  stature,  by  teaching  himself  to 
observe  a  neatness  of  domestic  and  general  management 
that  told  him  he  certainly  was  not  as  good  as  a  woman. 
Herbert  delighted  in  them.  The  cook  regaled  the  car- 
penter with  skilful,  tasty,  and  economic  dishes;  and  the 
carpenter,  obedient  to  her  supplications,  had  promised,  in 
the  event  of  his  outliving  her,  that  no  hands  but  his  should 
have  the  making  of  her  coffin.  "It  is  so  nice,"  she  said, 
"  to  think  one's  own  husband  will  put  together  the  box  you 
are  to  lie  in,  of  his  own  make!"  Had  they  been  even  a 
doubtfully  united  pair,  the  cook's  anticipation  of  a  com- 
fortable coffin,  the  work  of  the  best  carpenter  in  England, 
would  have  kept  them  together;  and  that  which  fine  cookery 
does  for  the  cementing  of  couples  needs  not  to  be  recounted 
to  those  who  have  read  a  chapter  or  two  of  the  natural 
history  of  the  male  sex. 

"  chickledon,  my  dear  soul,  your  husband  is  labouring 
with  a  bit  of  fun,"  Herbert  said  to  her. 

"  Hfe  would  n't  laugh  loud  at  Punch,  for  fear  of  an 
action,"  she  replied.  "He  never  laughs  out  till  he  gets  to 
bed,  and  has  locked  the  door;  and  when  he  does  he  says 
1  Hush ! '  to  me.  Tinman  is  n't  bailiff  again  just  yet,  and 
where  he  has  his  bailiff's  best  Court  suit  from,  you  may 
ask.  He  exercises  in  it  off  and  on  all  the  week,  at  night, 
and  sometimes  in  the  middle  of  the  day." 

Herbert  rallied  her  for  her  gossip's  credulity. 

"  It 's  truth,"  she  declared.  "  I  have  it  from  the  maid  of 
the  house,  little  Jane,  whom  he  pays  four  pound  a  year  for 
ail  the  work  of  the  house :  a  clever  little  thing  with  her 
hands  and  her  head  she  is ;  and  can  read  and  write  beau- 
tiful; and  she  's  a  mind  to  leave  'em  if  they  don't  advance 
her.  She  knocked  and  went  in  while  he  was  full  blaze, 
and  bowing  his  poll  to  his  glass.  And  now  he  turns  the 
key,  and  a  child  might  know  he  was  at  it." 

" He  can't  be  such  a  donkey! " 

"  And  he  's  been  seen  at  the  window  on  the  seaside. 
'  Who  's  your  Admiral  staying  at  the  house  on  the  beach  ? ' 
men  have  inquired  as  they  come  ashore.  My  husband  has 
heard  it.  Tinman 's  got  it  on  his  brain.  He  might  be 
cured  by  marriage  to  a  sound-headed  woman,  but  he  '11 
soon  be  wanting  to  walk  about  in  silk  legs  if  he  stops  a 


136  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

bachelor.  They  tell  me  his  old  mother  here  had  a  dress 
value  twenty  pound;  and  pomp's  inherited.  Save  as  he 
may,  there  's  his  leak." 

Herbert's  contempt  for  Tinman  was  intense ;  it  was  that 
of  the  young  and  ignorant  who  live  in  their  imaginations 
like  spendthrifts,  unaware  of  the  importance  of  them  as 
the  food  of  life,  and  of  how  necessary  it  is  to  seize  upon 
the  solider  one  among  them  for  perpetual  sustenance  when 
the  unsubstantial  are  vanishing.  The  great  event  of  his 
bailiff's  term  of  office  had  become  the  sun  of  Tinman's 
system.  He  basked  in  its  rays.  He  meant  to  be  again 
the  proud  official,  royally  distinguished;  meantime,  though 
he  knew  not  that  his  days  were  dull,  he  groaned  under  the 
dulness;  and,  as  cart  or  cab  horses,  uncomplaining  as  a 
rule,  show  their  view  of  the  nature  of  harness  when  they 
have  release  to  frisk  in  a  field,  it  is  possible  that  existence 
was  made  tolerable  to  the  jogging  man  by  some  minutes  of 
excitement  in  his  bailiff's  Court  suit.  Keally  to  pasture 
on  our  recollections  we  ought  to  dramatize  them.  There  is, 
however,  only  the  testimony  of  a  maid  and  a  mariner  to 
show  that  Tinman  did  it,  and  those  are  witnesses  coming 
of  particularly  long-bow  classes,  given  to  magnify  small 
items  of  fact. 

Un  reaching  the  hall  Herbert  found  the  fire  alight  in  the 
smoking-room,  and  soon  after  settling  himself  there  he 
heard  Van  Diemen's  voice  at  the  hall-door  saying  good 
night  to  Tinman. 

"Thank  the  Lord!  there  you  are,"  said  Van  Diemen, 
entering  the  room.  "I  couldn't  have  hoped  so  much. 
That  rascal !  "  he  turned  round  to  the  door.  "  He  has  been 
threatening  me,  and  then  smoothing  me.  Hang  his  oil! 
It 's  combustible.  And  hang  the  port  he  's  for  laying 
down,  as  he  calls  it.  '  Leave  it  to  posterity, '  says  I. 
'  Why  ?  '  says  he.  '  Because  the  young  ones  '11  be  better 
able  to  take  care  of  themselves,'  says  I,  and  he  insists  on 
an  explanation.  I  gave  it  to  him.  Out  he  bursts  like  a 
wasp's  nest.  He  may  have  said  what  he  did  say  in  temper. 
He  seemed  sorry  afterwards  —  poor  old  Mart !  The  scoun- 
drel talked  of  Horse  Guards  and  telegraph  wires." 

"Scoundrel,  but  more  ninny,"  said  Herbert,  full  of  his 
contempt.     "Dare  him  to  do  his  worst.     The  General  tells 


THE   HOUSE   ON   THE   BEACH  137 

me  they  'd  be  glad  to  overlook  it  at  the  Guards,  even  if 
they  had  all  the  facts.     Branding  's  out  of  the  question." 

"  I  swear  it  was  done  in  my  time,"  cried  Van  Diemen,  all 
on  tire. 

"  It 's  out  of  the  question.  You  might  be  advised 
to  leave  England  for  a  few  months.  As  for  the  society 
here " 

"  If  I  leave,  I  leave  for  good.  My  heart 's  broken.  I  'm 
disappointed.  I  'm  deceived  in  my  friend.  He  and  I  in 
the  old  days!  What's  come  to  him?  What  on  earth  is 
it  changes  men  who  stop  in  England  so  ?  It  can't  be 
the  climate.  And  did  you  mention  my  name  to  General 
FelHngham  ?  " 

"Certainly  not,"  said  Herbert.  "But  listen  to  me,  sir, 
a  moment.  Why  not  get  together  half-a-dozen  friends  of 
the  neighbourhood,  and  make  a  clean  breast  of  it.  English- 
men like  that  kind  of  manliness,  and  they  are  sure  to  ring 
sound  to  it." 

"  I  could  n't !  "  Van  Diemen  sighed.  "  It 's  not  a  natural 
feeling  I  have  about  it  —  I  've  brooded  on  the  word.  If  I 
have  a  nightmare,  I  see  Deserter  written  in  sulphur  on  the 
black  wall." 

"You  can't  remain  at  his  mercy,  and  be  bullied  as  you 
are.  He  makes  you  ill,  sir.  He  won't  do  anything,  but 
he  '11  go  on  worrying  you.  I  'd  stop  him  at  once.  I  'd 
take  the  train  to-morrow  and  get  an  introduction  to  the 
Commander-in-Chief.  He  's  the  very  man  to  be  kind  to 
you  in  a  situation  like  this.  The  General  would  get  you 
the  introduction." 

"That's  more  to  my  taste;  but  no,  I  couldn't,"  Van 
Diemen  moaned  in  his  weakness.  "Money  has  unmanned 
me.  I  wasn't  this  kind  of  man  formerly;  nor  more  was 
Mart  Tinman,  the  traitor!  All  the  world  seems  changeing 
for  the  worse,  and  England  is  n't  what  she  used  to  be." 

"  You  let  that  man  spoil  it  for  you,  sir."  Herbert  related 
Mrs.  Crickledon's  tale  of  Mr.  Tinman,  adding,  "He's  an 
utter  donkey.  I  should  defy  him.  What  I  should  do 
would  be  to  let  him  know  to-morrow  morning  that  you 
don't  intend  to  see  him  again.  Blow  for  blow,  is  the  thing 
he  requires.     He  '11  be  cringing  to  you  in  a  week." 

"And  you'd  like  to  marry  Annette,"  said  Van  Diemen, 


138  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

relishing,  nevertheless,  the  advice,  whose  origin  and  object 
he  perceived  so  plainly. 

"Of  course  I  should,"  said  Herbert,  franker  still  in  his 
colour  than  his  speech. 

"  I  don't  see  him  my  girl's  husband."  Van  Diemen  eyed 
the  red  hollow  in  the  falling  coals.  "  When  I  came  first, 
and  found  him  a  healthy  man,  good-looking  enough  for  a 
trifle  over  forty,  I  'd  have  given  her  gladly,  she  nodding 
Yes.  Now  all  my  fear  is  she  's  in  earnest.  Upon  my  soul, 
I  had  the  notion  old  Mart  was  a  sort  of  a  boy  still ;  play- 
ing man,  you  know.  But  how  can  you  understand  ?  I 
fancied  his  airs  and  stiffness  were  put  on;  thought  I  saw 
him  burning  true  behind  it.  Who  can  tell  ?  He  seems  to 
be  jealous  of  my  buying  property  in  his  native  town. 
Something  frets  him.  I  ought  never  to  have  struck  him ! 
There  's  my  error,  and  I  repent  it.  Strike  a  friend!  I 
wonder  he  did  n't  go  off  to  the  Horse  Guards  at  once.  I 
might  have  done  it  in  his  place,  if  I  found  I  couldn't  lick 
him.     I  should  have  tried  kicking  first." 

"Yes,  shinning  before  peaching,"  said  Herbert,  aston- 
ished almost  as  much  as  he  was  disgusted  by  the  inveterate 
sentimental  attachment  of  Van  Diemen  to  his  old  friend. 

Martin  Tinman  anticipated  good  things  of  the  fright  he 
had  given  the  man  after  dinner.  He  had,  undoubtedly, 
yielded  to  temper,  forgetting  pure  policy,  which  it  is  so 
exceeding  difficult  to  practice.  But  he  had  soothed  the 
startled  beast;  they  had  shaken  hands  at  parting,  and 
Tinman  hoped  that  the  week  of  Annette's  absence  would 
enable  him  to  mould  her  father.  Young  Fellingham's 
appointment  to  come  to  Elba  had  slipped  Mr.  Tinman's 
memory.  It  was  annoying  to  see  this  intruder.  "At  all 
events,  he  's  not  with  Annette,"  said  Mrs.  Cavely.  "How 
long  has  her  father  to  run  on  ?  " 

"  Five  months,"  Tinman  replied.  " He  would  have  com- 
pleted his  term  of  service  in  five  months." 

"And  to  think  of  his  being  a  rich  man  because  he  de- 
serted," Mrs.  Cavely  interjected.  "Oh!  I  do  call  it  im- 
moral. He  ought  to  be  apprehended  and  punished,  to  be 
an  example  for  the  good  of  society.  If  you  lose  time,  my 
dear  Martin,  your  chance  is  gone.  He 's  wriggling  now. 
And  if  I  could  believe  he  talked  us  over  to  that  young 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH         139 

impudent,  who  has  n't  a  penny  that  he  does  n't  get  from  his 
pen,  I  'd  say,  denounce  him  to-morrow.  I  long  for  Elba. 
I  hate  this  house.  It  will  be  swallowed  up  some  day ;  I 
know  it;  I  have  dreamt  it.  Elba  at  any  cost.  Depend 
upon  it,  Martin,  you  have  been  foiled  in  your  suits  on 
account  of  the  mean  house  you  inhabit.  Enter  Elba  as 
that  girl's  husband,  or  go  there  to  own  it,  and  girls  will 
crawl  to  you." 

"You  are  a  ridiculous  woman,  Martha,"  said  Tinman, 
not  dissenting. 

The  mixture  of  an  idea  of  public  duty  with  a  feeling  of 
personal  rancour  is  a  strong  incentive  to  the  pursuit  of  a 
stern  line  of  conduct;  and  the  glimmer  of  self-interest 
superadded  does  not  check  the  steps  of  the  moralist. 
Nevertheless,  Tinman  held  himself  in.  He  loved  peace. 
He  preached  it,  he  disseminated  it.  At  a  meeting  in  the 
town  he  strove  to  win  Van  Diemen's  voice  in  favour  of  a 
vote  for  further  moneys  to  protect  '  our  shores."  Van 
Diemen  laughed  at  him,  telling  him  he  wanted  a  battery. 
"No,"  said  Tinman,  "  I  've  had  enough  to  do  with  soldiers." 

"  How  's  that  ?  " 

"  They  might  be  more  cautious.  I  say,  they  might  learn 
to  know  their  friends  from  their  enemies." 

"That's  it,  that's  it,"  said  Van  Diemen.  "If  you  say 
much  more,  my  hearty,  you  '11  find  me  bidding  against  you 
next  week  for  Marine  Parade  and  Belle  Vue  Terrace. 
I  've  a  cute  eye  for  property,  and  this  town  's  looking  up." 

"  You  look  about  you  before  you  speculate  in  land  and 
house  property  here,"  retorted  Tinman. 

Van  Diemen  bore  so  much  from  him  that  he  asked  him- 
self whether  he  could  be  an  Englishman.  The  title  of 
Deserter  was  his  raw  wound.  He  attempted  to  form  the 
habit  of  stigmatizing  himself  with  it  in  the  privacy  of  his 
chamber,  and  he  succeeded  in  establishing  the  habit  of 
talking  to  himself,  so  that  he  was  heard  by  the  household, 
and  Annette,  on  her  return,  was  obliged  to  warn  him  of  his 
indiscretion.  This  development  of  a  new  weakness  exas- 
perated him.  Rather  to  prove  his  courage  by  defiance  than 
to  baffle  Tinman's  ambition  to  become  the  principal  owner 
of  houses  in  Crikswich,  by  outbidding  him  at  the  auction 
for  the  s.-\le  of  Marine  Parade  and  Belle  Vue  Terrace,  V*»*. 


140  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

Diemen  ran  the  houses  up  at  the  auction,  and  ultimately 
had  Belle  Vue  knocked  down  to  him.  So  fierce  was  the 
quarrel  that  Anuette,  in  conjunction  with  Mrs.  Cavely. 
was  called  on  to  interpose  with  her  sweetest  grace.  "My 
native  place,"  Tinman  said  to  her;  "it  is  my  native  place. 
I  have  a  pride  in  it;  I  desire  to  own  property  in  it,  and 
your  father  opposes  me.  He  opposes  me.  Then  says  I 
may  have  it  back  at  auction  price,  after  he  has  gone  far 
to  double  the  price !  I  have  borne  —  I  repeat  I  have  borne 
too  much." 

"Aren't  your  properties  to  be  equal  to  one  ?"  said  Mrs. 
Cavely,  smiling  mother-like  from  Tinman  to  Annette. 

He  sought  to  produce  a  fondling  eye  in  a  wry  face,  and 
said,  "Yes,  I  will  remember  that." 

"Annette  will  bless  you  with  her  dear  hand  in  a  month 
or  two  at  the  outside,"  Mrs.  Cavely  murmured,  cherish- 
ingly. 

"She  will  ?"  Tinman  cracked  his  body  to  bend  to  her. 

"Oh,  I  cannot  say;  do  not  distress  me.  Be  friendly 
with  papa,"  the  girl  resumed,  moving  to  escape. 

"That  is  the  essential,"  said  Mrs.  Cavely;  and  continued, 
when  Annette  had  gone,  "  The  essential  is  to  get  over  the 
next  few  months,  miss,  and  then  to  snap  your  fingers  at 
us.  Martin,  I  would  force  that  man  to  sell  you  Belle  Vue 
under  the  price  he  paid  for  it,  just  to  try  your  power." 

Tinman  was  not  quite  so  forcible.  He  obtained  Belle 
Vue  at  auction  price,  and  his  passion  for  revenge  was 
tipped  with  fire  by  having  it  accorded  as  a  friend's  favour. 

The  poisoned  state  of  his  mind  was  increased  by  a 
December  high  wind  that  rattled  his  casements,  and  warned 
him  of  his  accession  of  property  exposed  to  the  elements. 
Both  he  and  his  sister  attributed  their  nervousness  to  the 
minister  behaviour  of  Van  Diemen.  For  the  house  on  the 
beach  had  only,  in  most  distant  times,  been  threatened  by 
the  sea,  and  no  house  on  earth  was  better  protected  from 
man,  — Neptune,  in  the  shape  of  a  coastguard,  being  paid 
by  Government  to  patrol  about  it  during  the  hours  of 
darkness.  They  had  never  had  any  fears  before  Van 
Diemen  arrived,  and  caused  them  to  give  thrice  their  ordi- 
nary number  of  dinners  to  guests  per  annum.  In  fact, 
before  Van  Diemen  came,  the  house  on  the  beach  looked 


THE   HOUSE   ON   THE   BEACH  141 

on  Crikswich  without  a  rival  to  challenge  its  anticipated 
lordship  over  the  place,  and  for  some  inexplicable  reason 
it  seemed  to  its  inhabitants  to  have  been  a  safer  as  well  as 
a  happier  residence. 

They  were  consoled  by  Tinman's  performance  of  a  clever 
stroke  in  privately  purchasing  the  cottages  west  of  the 
town,  and  including  Crickledon's  shop,  abutting  on  Marine 
Parade.  Then  from  the  house  on  the  beach  they  looked  at 
an  entire  frontage  of  their  property. 

They  entered  the  month  of  February.  No  further  time 
was  to  be  lost,  "  or  we  shall  wake  up  to  find  that  man  has 
fooled  us,"  Mrs.  Cavely  said.  Tinman  appeared  at  Elba  to 
demand  a  private  interview  with  Annette.  His  hat  was 
blown  into  the  hall  as  the  door  opened  to  him,  and  he 
himself  was  glad  to  be  sheltered  by  the  door,  so  violent  was 
the  gale.  Annette  and  her  father  were  sitting  together. 
They  kept  the  betrothed  gentleman  waiting  a  very  long 
time.  At  last  Van  Diemen  went  to  him,  and  said, 
"  Netty  '11  see  you,  if  you  must.  I  suppose  you  have  no 
business  with  me  ?  " 

"Not  to-day,"  Tinman  replied. 

Van  Diemen  strode  round  the  drawing-room  with  his 
hands  in  his  pockets.  "There  's  a  disparity  of  ages,"  he 
said,  abruptly,  as  if  desirous  to  pour  out  his  lesson  while 
he  remembered  it.  "A  man  upwards  of  forty  marries  a 
girl  under  twenty,  he  's  over  sixty  before  she  's  forty;  he  's 
decaying  when  she  's  only  mellow.  I  ought  never  to  have 
struck  you,  I  know.  And  you're  such  an  infernal  bad 
temper  at  times,  and  age  doesn't  improve  that,  they  say; 
and  she  's  been  educated  tip-top.  She  's  sharp  on  grammar, 
and  a  man  may  n't  like  that  much  when  he  's  a  husband. 
See  her,  if  you  must.  But  she  doesn't  take  to  the  idea; 
there  's  the  truth.  Disparity  of  ages  and  unsuitableness 
of  dispositions  —  what  was  it  Fellingham  said  ?  —  like  two 
barrel-organs  grinding  different  tunes  all  day  in  a  house." 

"I  don't  want  to  hear  Mr.  Fellingham's  comparisons," 
Tinman  snapped. 

"Oh!  he's  nothing  to  the  girl,"  said  Van  Diemen. 
"She  doesn't  stomach  leaving  me." 

"  My  dear  Philip !  why  should  she  leave  you  ?  When  we 
have  interests  in  common  as  one  household " 


142  THE  HOUSE   ON   THE   BEACH 

"She  says  you're  such  a  damned  bad  temper." 

Tinman     was     pursuing     amicably,     "When     we     ure 

united "     But  the  frightful  charge  brought  against  his 

temper  drew  him  up.  "Fiery  I  may  be.  Annette  has 
seen  I  am  forgiving.  I  am  a  Christian.  You  have  pro- 
voked me;  you  have  struck  me." 

"  I  '11  give  you  a  couple  of  thousand  pounds  in  hard 
money  to  be  off  the  bargain,  and  not  bother  the  girl,"  said 
Van  Diemen. 

"Now,"  rejoined  Tinman,  "I  am  offended.  I  like 
money,  like  most  men  who  have  made  it.  You  do,  Philip. 
But  I  don't  come  courting  like  a  pauper.  Not  for  ten 
thousand;  not  for  twenty.  Money  cannot  be  a  compensa- 
tion to  me  for  the  loss  of  Annette.     I  say  I  love  Annette." 

"Because,"  Van  Diemen  continued  his  speech,  "you 
trapped  us  into  that  engagement,  Mart.  You  dosed  me 
with  the  stuff  you  buy  for  wine,  while  your  sister  sat 
sugaring  and  mollifying  my  girl ;  and  she  did  the  trick  in 
a  minute,  taking  Netty  by  surprise  when  I  was  all  heart 
and  no  head;  and  since  that  you  may  have  seen  the  girl 
turn  her  head  from  marriage  like  my  woods  from  the 
wind." 

"  Mr.  Van  Diemen  Smith !  "  Tinman  panted ;  he  mastered 
himself.  "You  shall  not  provoke  me.  My  introductions 
of  you  in  this  neighbourhood,  my  patronage,  prove  my 
friendship." 

"  You  '11  be  a  good  old  fellow,  Mart,  when  you  get  over 
your  hopes  of  being  knighted." 

"  Mr.  Fellingham  may  set  you  against  my  wine,  Philip. 
Let  me  tell  you  —  I  know  you  —  you  would  not  object  to 
have  your  daughter  called  Lady." 

"With  a  spindle-shanked  husband  capering  in  a  Court 
suit  before  he  goes  to  bed  every  night,  that  he  mayn't 
forget  what  a  fine  fellow  he  was  one  day  bygone !  You  're 
growing  lean  on  it,  Mart,  like  a  recollection  fifty  years 
old." 

"You  have  never  forgiven  me  that  day,  Philip!  " 

"Jealous,  am  I  ?  Take  the  money,  give  up  the  girl,  and 
see  what  friends  we  '11  be.  I  '11  back  your  buyings,  I  '11 
advertise  your  sellings.  I  '11  pay  a  painter  to  paint  you  in 
your  Court  suit,  and  hang  up  a  copy  of  you  in  my  dining- 
room." 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH         143 

"Annette  is  here,"  said  Tinman,  who  had  been  showing 
^Etna's  tokens  of  insurgency. 

He  admired  Annette.  Not  till  latterly  had  Herbert 
Fellingham  been  so  true  an  admirer  of  Annette  as  Tinman 
was.  She  looked  sincere  and  she  dressed  inexpensively. 
For  these  reasons  she  was  the  best  example  of  womankind 
that  he  knew,  and  her  enthusiasm  for  England  had  the 
sympathetic  effect  on  him  of  obscuring  the  rest  of  the  world, 
and  thrilling  him  with  the  reassuring  belief  that  he  was 
blest  in  his  blood  and  his  birthplace  —  points  which  her 
father,  with  his  boastings  of  Gippsland,  and  other  people 
talking  of  scenes  on  the  Continent,  sometimes  disturbed  in 
his  mind. 

"Annette,"  said  he,  "I  come  requesting  to  converse  with 
you  in  private." 

"If  you  wish  it  —  I  would  rather  not,"  she  answered. 

Tinman  raised  his  head,  as  often  at  Helmstone  when 
some  offending  shopwoman  was  to  hear  her  doom. 

He  bent  to  her.     "I  see.     Before  your  father,  then!  " 

"It  isn't  an  agreeable  bit  of  business  to  me,"  Van 
Diemen  grumbled,  frowning  and  shrugging. 

"  I  have  come,  Annette,  to  ask  you,  to  beg  you,  entreat 
—  before  a  third  person  —  laughing,  Philip  ?" 

"  The  wrong  side  of  my  mouth,  my  friend.  And  I  '11  tell 
you  what :  we  're  in  for  heavy  seas,  and  I  'm  not  sorry 
you  've  taken  the  house  on  the  beach  off  my  hands." 

"Pray,  Mr.  Tinman,  speak  at  once,  if  you  please,  and  I 
will  do  my  best.     Papa  vexes  you." 

"No,  no,"  replied  Tinman.  > 

He  renewed  his  commencement.  Van  Diemen  inter- 
rupted him  again. 

"  Hang  your  power  over  me,  as  you  call  it.  Eh,  old 
Mart  ?  I  'm  a  Deserter.  I  '11  pay  a  thousand  pounds  to 
the  British  army,  whether  they  punish  me  or  not.  March 
me  off  to-morrow." 

"Papa,  you  are  unjust,  unkind."  Annette  turned  to  him 
in  tears. 

"No,  no,"  said  Tinman,  "I  do  not  feel  it.  Your  father 
has  misunderstood  me,  Annette." 

"I  am  sure  he  has,"  she  said  fervently.  "And,  Mr. 
Tinman,  I  will  faithfully  promise  that  so  long  as  you  are 


144  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

good  to  my  dear  father,  I  will  not  be  untrue  to  my  engage- 
ment, only  do  not  wish  me  to  name  any  day.  We  shall  be 
such  very  good  dear  friends  if  you  consent  to  this.  Will 
you?" 

Pausing  for  a  space,  the  enamoured  man  unrolled  his 
voice  in  lamentation:  "Oh!  Annette,  how  long  will  you 
keep  me  ?  " 

"There,  you'll  set  her  crying!"  said  Van  Diemen. 
"'Now  you  can  run  upstairs,  Netty.  By  jingo!  Mart 
Tinman,  you  've  got  a  bass  voice  for  love  affairs." 

"Annette,"  Tinman  called  to  her,  and  made  her  turn 
round  as  she  was  retiring.  "  I  must  know  the  day  before 
the  end  of  winter.  Please.  In  kind  consideration.  My 
arrangements  demand  it." 

"  Do  let  the  girl  go,"  said  Van  Diemen.  "  Dine  with  me 
to-night,  and  I  '11  give  you  a  wine  to  brisk  your  spirits,  old 
boy." 

"  Thank  you.  When  I  have  ordered  dinner  at  home, 
I and  my  wine  agrees  with  me"  Tinman  replied. 

"  I  doubt  it." 

"  You  shall  not  provoke  me,  Philip." 

They  parted  stiffly. 

Mrs.  Cavely  had  unpleasant  domestic  news  to  communi- 
cate to  her  brother,  in  return  for  his  tale  of  affliction  and 
wrath.  It  concerned  the  ungrateful  conduct  of  their  little 
housemaid  Jane,  who,  as  Mrs.  Cavely  said,  "egged  on  by 
that  woman  Crickledon,"  had  been  hinting  at  an  advance  of 
wages. 

"  She  did  n't  dare  speak,  but  I  saw  what  was  in  her  when 
she  broke  a  plate,  and  wouldn't  say  she  was  sorry.  I 
know  she  goes  to  Crickledon  and  talks  us  over.  She  's  a 
willing  worker,  but  she  has  no  heart." 

Tinman  had  been  accustomed  in  his  shop  at  Helmstone  — 
where  heaven  had  blessed  him  with  the  patronage  of  the 
rich,  as  visibly  as  rays  of  supernal  light  are  seen  selecting 
from  above  the  heads  of  prophets  in  the  illustrations  to 
cheap  holy  books  —  to  deal  with  willing  workers  that  have 
no  hearts.  Before  the  application  for  an  advance  of  wages 
—  and  he  knew  the  signs  of  it  coming  —  his  method  was  to 
calculate  how  much  he  might  be  asked  for,  and  divide  the 
estimated  sum  by  the  figure  4;  which,  as  it  seemed   to 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH         145 

come  from  a  generous  impulse,  and  had  been  unsolicited, 
was  often  humbly  accepted,  and  the  willing  worker  pur- 
sued her  lean  and  hungry  course  in  his  service.  The  treat- 
ment did  not  always  agree  with  his  males.  Women  it 
suited,  because  they  do  not  like  to  lift  up  their  voices 
unless  they  are  in  a  passion ;  and  if  you  take  from  them 
the  grounds  of  temper,  you  take  their  words  away  —  you 
make  chickens  of  them.  And  as  Tinman  said,  "  Gratitude 
I  never  expect ! "  Why  not  ?  For  the  reason  that  he 
knew  human  nature.  He  could  record  shocking  instances 
of  the  ingratitude  of  human  nature,  as  revealed  to  him  in 
the  term  of  his  tenure  of  the  shop  at  Helmstone.  Blest 
from  above,  human  nature's  wickedness  had  from  below 
too  frequently  besulphured  and  suffumigated  him  for  his 
memory  to  be  dim ;  and  though  he  was  ever  ready  to  own 
himself  an  example  that  heaven  prevaileth,  he  could  cite 
instances  of  scandalmongering  shop-women  dismissed  and 
working  him  mischief  in  the  town,  which  pointed  to  him 
in  person  for  a  proof  that  the  Powers  of  Good  and 
Evil  were  still  engaged  in  unhappy  contention.  Witness 
Strikes!  witness  Revolutions! 

"Tell  her,  when  she  lays  the  cloth,  that  I  advance  her, 
on  account  of  general  good  conduct,  five  shillings  per 
annum.  Add,"  said  Tinman,  "  that  I  wish  no  thanks.  It 
is  for  her  merits  —  to  reward  her;  you  understand  me, 
Martha  ?  " 

"  Quite ;  if  you  think  it  prudent,  Martin." 

"I  do.     She  is  not  to  breathe  a  syllable  to  cook." 

"She  will." 

"  Then  keep  your  eye  on  cook." 

Mrs.  Cavely  promised  she  would  do  so.  She  felt  sure 
she  was  paying  five  shillings  for  ingratitude ;  and,  there- 
fore, it  was  with  humility  that  she  owned  her  error  when, 
while  her  brother  sipped  his  sugared  acrid  liquor  after 
dinner  (in  devotion  to  the  doctor's  decree,  that  he  should 
take  a  couple  of  glasses,  rigorously  as  body-lashing  friar), 
she  imparted  to  him  the  singular  effect  of  the  advance  of 
wages  upon  little  Jane  — "  Oh,  ma'am !  and  me  never 
asked  you  for  it!"  She  informed  her  brother  how  little 
Jane  had  confided  to  her  that  they  were  called  "close," 
and  how  little  Jane  had  vowed  she  would  —  the   willing 


146  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

little  thing !  —  go  about  letting  everybody  know  theii 
kindness. 

"  Yes  !  Ah ! "  Tinman  inhaled  the  praise.  "  No,  no ;  I 
don't  want  to  be  puffed,"  he  said.  "Remember  cook.  I 
have,"  he  continued,  meditatively,  "rarely  found  my  plan 
fail.  But  mind,  I  give  the  Crickledons  notice  to  quit 
to-morrow.  They  are  a  pest.  Besides,  I  shall  probably 
think  of  erecting  villas." 

"  How  dreadful  the  wind  is ! "  Mrs.  Cavely  exclaimed. 
"I  would  give  that  girl  Annette  one  chance  more.  Try 
her  by  letter." 

Tinman  despatched  a  business  letter  to  Annette,  which 
brought  back  a  vague,  unbusiness-like  reply.  Two  days 
afterward  Mrs.  Cavely  reported  to  her  brother  the  presence 
of  Mr.  Fellingham  and  Miss  Mary  Fellingham  in  Crikswich. 
At  her  dictation  he  wrote  a  second  letter.  This  time  the 
reply  came  from  Van  Diemen  :  — 

"  My  dear  Martin,  —  Please  do  not  go  on  bothering  my 
girl.  She  does  not  like  the  idea  of  leaving  me,  and  my 
experience  tells  me  I  could  not  live  in  the  bouse  with  you. 
So  there  it  is.  Take  it  friendly.  I  have  always  wanted  to 
be,  and  am,  "  Your  friend, 

"Phil." 

Tinman  proceeded  straight  to  Elba;  that  is,  as  nearly 
straight  as  the  wind  would  allow  his  legs  to  walk.  Van 
Diemen  was  announced  to  be  out ;  Miss  Annette  begged  to 
be  excused,  under  the  pretext  that  she  was  unwell;  and 
Tinman  heard  of  a  dinner-party  at  Elba  that  night. 

He  met  Mr.  Fellingham  on  the  carriage  drive.  The 
young  Londoner  presumed  to  touch  upon  Tinman's  private 
affairs  by  pleading  on  behalf  of  the  Crickledons,  who  were, 
he  said,  much  dejected  by  the  notice  they  had  received  to 
quit  house  and  shop. 

"  Another  time,"  bawled  Tinman.  "  I  can't  hear  you  in 
this  wind." 

"Come  in,"  said  Fellingham. 

"The  master  of  the  house  is  absent,"  was  the  smart 
retort  roared  at  him ;  and  Tinman  staggered  away,  enjoying 
it  as  he  did  his  wine. 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH         147 

His  house  rocked.  He  was  backed  by  his  sister  in  the 
assurance  that  he  had  been  duped. 

The  process  he  supposed  to  be  thinking,  which  was  the 
castigation  of  his  brains  with  every  sting  wherewith  a 
native  touchiness  could  ply  immediate  recollection,  led  him 
to  conclude  that  he  must  bring  Van  Diemen  to  his  senses, 
and  Annette  running  to  him  for  mercy. 

He  sat  down  that  night  amid  the  howling  of  the  storm, 
wind  whistling,  water  crashing,  casements  rattling,  beach 
desperately  dragging,  as  by  the  wide-stretched  star-fish 
fingers  of  the  half-engulphed. 

He  hardly  knew  what  he  wrote.  The  man  was  in  a 
state  of  personal  terror,  burning  with  indignation  at  Van 
Diemen  as  the  main  cause  of  his  jeopardy.  For,  in  order 
to  prosecute  his  pursuit  of  Annette,  he  had  abstained  from 
going  to  Helmstone  to  pay  moneys  into  his  bank  there,  and 
what  was  precious  to  life  as  well  as  life  itself,  was  imper- 
illed by  those  two  —  Annette  and  her  father  —  who,  had 
they  been  true,  had  they  been  honest,  to  say  nothing  of 
honourable,  would  by  this  time  have  opened  Elba  to  him  as 
a  fast  and  safe  abode. 

His  letter  was  addressed,  on  a  large  envelope, 

"  To  the  Adjutant-General, 

"Horse  Guards." 

But  if  ever  consigned  to  the  Post,  that  post-office  must 
be  in  London  ;  and  Tinman  left  the  letter  on  his  desk  till 
the  moruing  should  bring  counsel  to  him  as  to  the  London 
friend  to  whom  he  might  despatch  it  under  cover  for  post- 
ing, if  he  pushed  it  so  far. 

Sleep  was  impossible.  Black  night  favoured  the  tearing 
fiends  of  shipwreck,  and  looking  through  a  back  window 
over  sea,  Tinman  saw  with  dismay  huge  towering  ghost- 
white  wreaths,  that  travelled  up  swiftly  on  his  level,  and 
lit  the  dark  as  they  flung  themselves  in  ruin,  with  a  gasp, 
across  the  mound  of  shingle  at  his  feet. 

He  undressed.  His  sister  called  to  Trim  to  know  if  they 
were  in  danger.  Clothed  in  his  dressing-gown,  he  slipped 
along  to  her  door,  to  vociferate  to  her  hoarsely  that  she 
must  not  frighten  the  servants  ;  and  one  fine  quality  in  the 


148  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

training  of  the  couple,  which  had  helped  them  to  prosper, 
a  form  of  self-command,  kept  her  quiet  in  her  shivering 
fears. 

For  a  distraction  Tinman  pulled  open  the  drawers  of  his 
wardrobe.  His  glittering  suit  lay  in  one.  And  he  thought, 
"  What  wonderful  changes  there  are  in  the  world  !  "  mean- 
ing, between  a  man  exposed  to  the  wrath  of  the  elements, 
and  the  same  individual  reading  from  vellum,  in  that  suit, 
in  a  palace,  to  the  Head  of  all  of  us  ! 

The  presumption  is,  that  he  must  have  often  done  it 
before.  The  fact  is  established,  that  he  did  it  that  night. 
The  conclusion  drawn  from  it  is,  that  it  must  have  given 
him  a  sense  of  stability  and  safety. 

At  any  rate,  that  he  put  on  the  suit  is  quite  certain. 

Probably  it  was  a  work  of  ingratiation  and  degrees ;  a 
feeling  of  the  silk,  a  trying  on  to  one  leg,  then  a  matching 
of  the  fellow  with  it.  0  you  Kevolutionists !  who  would 
have  no  state,  no  ceremonial,  and  but  one  order  of  galli- 
gaskins !  This  man  must  have  been  wooed  away  in  spirit 
to  forgetfulness  of  the  tempest  scourging  his  mighty  neigh- 
bour to  a  bigger  and  a  farther  leap  ;  he  must  have  obtained 
from  the  contemplation  of  himself  in  his  suit  that  which 
would  be  the  saving  of  all  men,  in  especial  of  his  country- 
men —  imagination,  namely. 

Certain  it  is,  as  I  have  said,  that  he  attired  himself  in 
the  suit.  He  covered  it  with  his  dressing-gown,  and  he  lay 
clown  on  his  bed  so  garbed,  to  await  the  morrow's  light, 
being  probably  surprised  by  sleep  acting  upon  fatigue  and 
nerves  appeased  and  soothed. 


CHAPTER  XII 


Elba  lay  more  sheltered  from  South-east  winds  under  the 
slopes  of  dowA  than  any  other  house  in  Crikswich.  The 
South-easter  struck  off  the  cliff  to  a  martello  tower  and 
the  house  on  the  beach,  leaving  Elba  to  repose,  so  that 
the  worst  wind  for  that  coast  was  one  of  the  most  comfort- 
able for  the  owner  of  the  hall,  and  he  looked  from   his 


THE   HOUSE   ON   THE  BEACH  1-19 

upper  window  on  a  sea  of  crumbling  grey  chalk,  lathed 
unremittingly  by  the  featureless  piping  gale,  without  feai 
that  his  elevated  grounds  and  walls  would  be  open  at  high 
tide  to  the  ravage  of  water.  Van  Diemen  had  no  idea  of 
calamity  being  at  work  on  laud  when  he  sat  down  to  break- 
fast. He  told  Herbert  that  he  had  prayed  for  poor  fellows 
at  sea  last  night.  Mary  Fellingham  and  Annette  were 
anxious  to  finish  breakfast  and  mount  the  down  to  gaze  on 
the  sea,  and  receiving  a  caution  from  Van  Diemen  not  to 
go  too  near  the  cliff,  they  were  inclined  to  think  he  was 
needlessly  timorous  on  their  account. 

Before  they  were  half  way  through  the  meal,  word  was 
brought  in  of  great  breaches  in  the  shingle,  and  water  cov- 
ering the  common.  Van  Diemen  sent  for  his  head  gar- 
dener, whose  report  of  the  state  of  things  outside  took  the 
comprehensive  form  of  prophecy  ;  he  predicted  the  fall  of 
the  town. 

"  Nonsense ;  what  do  you  mean,  John  Scott  ?  "  said  Van 
Diemen,  eyeing  his  orderly  breakfast  table  and  the  man  in 
turns.     "  It  does  n't  seem  like  that,  yet,  does  it  ?  " 

"  The  house  on  the  beach  won't  stand  an  hour  longer, 
sir." 

"  Who  says  so  ?  " 

"  It 's  cut  off  from  land  now,  and  waves  mast-high  all 
about  it." 

"  Mart  Tinman  ! "  cried  Van  Diemen. 

All  started ;  all  jumped  up  ;  and  there  was  a  scampering 
for  hats  and  cloaks.  Maids  and  men  of  the  house  ran  in 
and  out  confirming  the  news  of  inundation.  Some  in  terror 
for  the  fate  of  relatives,  others  pleasantly  excited,  glad  of 
catastrophe  if  it  but  killed  monotony,  for  at  any  rate  it  was 
a  change  of  demons. 

The  view  from  the  outer  bank  of  Elba  was  of  water  cov- 
ering the  space  of  the  common  up  to  the  stones  of  Marine 
Parade  and  Belle  Vue.  But  at  a  distance  it  had  not  the 
appearance  of  angry  water;  the  ladies  thought  it  pictur- 
esque, and  the  house  on  the  beach  was  seen  standing  firm. 
A  second  look  showed  the  house  completely  isolated  ;  and 
as  the  party  led  by  Van  Diemen  circled  hurriedly  toward  the 
town,  they  discerned  heavy  cataracts  of  foam  pouring  down 
the  wrecked  mound  of  shingle  on  either  side  of  the  house. 


150         THE  HOUSE  ON"  THE  BEACH 

"Why,  the  outer  wall 's  washed  away,"  said  Van  Dieinen. 

"  Are  they  in  real  danger  ?  "  asked  Annette,  her  teeth 
chattering,  and  the  cold  and  other  matters  at  her  heart 
precluding  for  the  moment  such  warmth  of  sympathy  as 
she  hoped  soon  to  feel  for  them.  She  was  glad  to  hear  her 
father  say: 

"  Oh !  they  're  high  and  dry  by  this  time.  We  shall 
find  them  in  the  town.  And  we  '11  take  them  in  and  com- 
fort them.  Ten  to  one  they  have  n't  breakfasted.  They 
sha'n't  go  to  an  inn  while  I  'm  handy." 

He  dashed  ahead,  followed  closely  by  Herbert.  The 
ladies  beheld  them  talking  to  townsfolk  as  they  passed 
along  the  upper  streets,  and  did  not  augur  well  of  their 
increase  of  speed.  At  the  head  of  the  town  water  was 
visible,  part  of  the  way  up  the  main  street,  and  crossing  it, 
the  ladies  went  swiftly  under  the  old  church,  on  the  tower 
of  which  were  spectators,  through  the  churchyard  to  a  high 
meadow  that  dropped  to  a  stone  wall  fixed  between  the 
meadow  and  a  grass  bank  above  the  level  of  the  road, 
where  now  salt  water  beat  and  cast  some  spray.  Not  less 
than  a  hundred  people  were  in  this  field,  among  them 
Crickledon  and  his  wife.  All  were  in  silent  watch  of  the 
house  on  the  beach,  which  was  to  east  of  the  field,  at  a  dis- 
tance of  perhaps  three  stonethrows.  The  scene  was  wild. 
Continuously  the  torrents  poured  through  the  shingle-clefts, 
and  momently  a  thunder  sounded,  and  high  leapt  a  billow 
that  topped  the  house  and  folded  it  weltering. 

"They  tell  me  Mart  Tinman's  in  the  house,"  Van  Die- 
men  roared  to  Herbert.  He  listened  to  further  informa- 
tion, and  bellowed :  "  There  's  no  boat !  " 

Herbert  answered :  "  It  must  be  a  mistake,  I  think ; 
here  's  Crickledon  says  he  had  a  warning  before  dawn  and 
managed  to  move  most  of  his  things,  and  the  people  over 
there  must  have  been  awakened  by  the  row  in  time  to 
get  off." 

_ "  I  can't  hear  a  word  you  say ;  "  Van  Diemen  tried  to 
pitch  his  voice  higher  than  the  wind.  "Did  you  say  a 
boat  ?    But  where  ?  " 

Crickledon  the  carpenter  made  signal  to  Herbert.  They 
stepped  rapidly  up  the  field. 

"  Women  feels  their  weakness  in  times  like  these,  my 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH         151 

dear,"  Mrs.  Crickledon  said  to  Annette.  "  What  with  our 
clothes  and  our  cowardice  it  do  seem  we  're  not  the  equals 
of  men  when  winds  is  high." 

Annette  expressed  the  hope  to  her  that  she  had  not  lost 
much  property.  Mrs.  Crickledon  said  she  was  glad  to  let 
her  know  she  was  insured  in  an  Accident  Company.  "  But," 
said  she,  "I  do  grieve  for  that  poor  man  Tinman,  if  alive 
he  be,  and  comes  ashore  to  find  his  property  wrecked  by 
water.  Bless  ye  !  he  would  n't  insure  against  anything  less 
common  than  fire;  and  my  house  and  Crickledon's  shop 
are  floating  timbers  by  this  time ;  and  Marine  Parade  and 
Belle  Vue  are  safe  to  go.  And  it'll  be  a  pretty  welcome 
for  him,  poor  man,  from  his  investments." 

A  cry  at  a  tremendous  blow  of  a  wave  on  the  doomed 
house  rose  from  the  field.  Back  and  front  door  were 
broken  down,  and  the  force  of  water  drove  a  round  volume 
through  the  channel,  shaking  the  walls. 

"I  can't  stand  this,"  Van  Diemen  cried. 

Annette  was  too  late  to  hold  him  back.  He  ran  up  the 
field.  She  was  preparing  to  run  after  when  Mrs.  Crickle- 
don touched  her  arm  and  implored  her  :  "  Interfere  not 
with  men,  but  let  them  follow  their  judgements  when  it 's 
seasons  of  mighty  peril,  my  dear.  If  any  one 's  guilty  it 's 
me,  for  minding  my  husband  of  a  boat  that  was  launched 
for  a  life-boat  here,  and  would  n't  answer,  and  is  at  the 
shed  by  the  Crouch  —  left  lying  there,  I've  often  said,  as 
if  it  was  a-sulking.     My  goodness  !  " 

A  linen  sheet  had  been  flung  out  from  one  of  the  win- 
dows of  the  house  on  the  beach,  and  flew  loose  and  flapping 
in  sign  of  distress. 

"  It  looks  as  if  they  had  gone  mad  in  that  house,  to  have 
waited  so  long  for  to  declare  theirselves,  poor  souls,"  Mrs. 
Crickledon  said,  sighing. 

She  was  assured  right  and  left  that  signals  had  been  seen 
before,  and  some  one  stated  that  the  cook  of  Mr.  Tinman, 
and  also  Mrs.  Cavely,  were  on  shore. 

"  It 's  his  furniture,  poor  man,  he  sticks  to :  and  noth- 
ing gets  round  the  heart  so!"  resumed  Mrs.  Crickledon. 
"There  goes  his  bed-linen." 

The  sheet  was  whirled  and  snapped  away  by  the  wind ; 
distended,  doubled,  like  a  flock  of  winter  geese  changeing 


152  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

alphabetical  letters  on  the  clouds,  darted  this  way  and  that, 
and  finally  outspread  on  the  waters  breaking  against  Marine 
Parade. 

"  They  cannot  have  thought  there  was  positive  danger 
in  remaining,"  said  Annette. 

"Mr.  Tinman  was  waiting  for  the  cheapest  Insurance 
office,"  a  man  remarked  to  Mrs.  Crickledon. 

"  The  least  to  pay  is  to  the  undertaker,"  she  replied, 
standing  on  tiptoe.  "  And  it 's  to  be  hoped  he  '11  pay  more 
to-day.  If  only  those  walls  don't  fall  and  stop  the  chance 
of  the  boat  to  save  him  for  more  outlay,  poor  man  !  What 
boats  was  on  the  beach  last  night,  high  up  and  over  the 
ridge  as  they  was,  are  planks  by  this  time  and  only  good 
for  carpenters." 

"  Half  our  town 's  done  for,"  one  old  man  said ;  and 
another  followed  him  in  a  pious  tone :  "  From  water  we 
came  and  to  water  we  go." 

They  talked  of  ancient  inroads  of  the  sea,  none  so  serious 
as  this  threatened  to  be  for  them.  The  gallant  solidity 
of  the  house  on  the  beach  had  withstood  heavy  gales :  it 
was  a  brave  house.  Heaven  be  thanked,  no  fishing  boats 
were  out.  Chiefly  well-to-do  people  would  be  the  suffer- 
ers—  an  exceptional  case.  For  it  is  the  mysterious  and 
unexplained  dispensation  that:  "Mostly  heaven  chastises 
we." 

A  knot  of  excited  gazers  drew  the  rest  of  the  field  to 
them.  Mrs.  Crickledon,  on  the  edge  of  the  crowd,  reported 
what  was  doing  to  Annette  and  Miss  Fellingham.  A  boat 
had  been  launched  from  the  town.  "  Praise  the  Lord, 
there 's  none  but  coastguard  in  it !  "  she  exclaimed,  and 
excused  herself  for  having  her  heart  on  her  husband. 

Annette  was  as  deeply  thankful  that  her  father  was  not 
in  the  boat. 

They  looked  round  and  saw  Herbert  beside  them.  Van 
Diemen  was  in  the  rear,  panting,  and  straining  his  neck  to 
catch  sight  of  the  boat  now  pulling  fast  across  a  tumbled 
sea  to  where  Tinman  himself  was  perceived,  beckoning 
them  wildly,  half  out  of  one  of  the  windows. 

"  A  pound  apiece  to  those  fellows,  and  two  if  they  land 
Mart  Tinman  dry ;  I  've  promised  it,  and  they  '11  earn  it. 
Look  at  that !    Quick,  you  rascals !  " 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH         153 

To  the  east  a  portion  of  the  house  had  fallen,  melted 
away.  Where  it  stood,  just  below  the  line  of  shingle,  it 
was  now  like  a  structure  wasting  on  a  tormented  submerged 
reef.     The  whole  line  was  given  over  to  the  waves. 

"  Where  is  his  sister  ?  "  Annette  shrieked  to  her  father. 

"  Safe  ashore ;  and  one  of  the  women  with  her.  But 
Mart  Tinman  would  stop,  the  fool!  to  —  poor  old  boy!  — 
save  his  papers  and  things ;  and  has  n't  a  head  to  do  it, 
Martha  Cavely  tells  me.  They  're  at  him  now  !  They  've 
got  him  in!  There's  another?  Oh!  it's  a  girl,  who 
would  n't  go  and  leave  him.  They  '11  pull  to  the  field  here. 
Brave  lads  !  By  jingo,  why  ain't  Englishmen  always  in 
danger  !  —  eh  ?  if  you  want  to  see  them  shine  ! " 

"  It  's  little  Jane,"  said  Mi-s.  Crickledon,  who  had  been 
joined  by  her  husband,  and  now  that  she  knew  him  to  be 
no  longer  in  peril,  kept  her  hand  on  him  to  restrain  him, 
just  for  comfort's  sake. 

The  boat  held  under  the  lee  of  the  house-wreck  a  minute ; 
then,  as  if  shooting  a  small  rapid,  came  down  on  a  wave 
crowned  with  foam,  to  hurrahs  from  the  townsmen. 

"  They  're  all  right,"  said  Van  Diemen,  puffing  as  at  a 
mist  before  his  eyes.  "  They  '11  pull  westward,  with  the 
wind,  and  land  him  among  vis.  I  remember  when  old  Mart 
and  I  were  bathing  once,  he  was  younger  than  me,  and 
could  n't  swim  much,  and  I  saw  him  going  down.  It  'd 
have  been  hard  to  see  him  washed  off  before  one's  eyes 
thirty  years  afterwards.  Here  they  come.  He 's  all  right. 
He  's  in  his  dressing-gown !  " 

The  crowd  made  way  for  Mr.  Van  Diemen  Smith  to 
welcome  his  friend.  Two  of  the  coastguard  jumped  out 
and  handed  him  to  the  dry  bank,  while  Herbert,  Van 
Diemen,  and  Crickledon  took  him  by  hand  and  arm,  and 
hoisted  him  on  to  the  flint  wall,  preparatory  to  his  descent 
into  the  field.  In  this  exposed  situation  the  wind,  whose 
pranks  are  endless  when  it  is  once  up,  seized  and  blew 
Martin  Tinman's  dressing-gown  wide  as  two  violently  flap- 
ping wings  on  each  side  of  him,  and  finally  over  his  head. 

Van  Diemen  turned  a  pair  of  stupefied  flat  eyes  on 
Herbert,  who  cast  a  sly  look  at  the  ladies.  Tinman  had 
sprung  down.  But  not  before  the  world,  in  one  tempestu- 
ous glimpse,  had  caught  sight  of  the  Court  suit. 


154  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

Perfect  gravity  greeted  him  from  the  crowd. 

"Safe,  old  Mart!  and  glad  to  be  able  to  say  it,"  said 
Van  Diemen. 

"  We  are  so  happy,"  said  Annette. 

"House,  furniture,  property,  everything  I  possess!" 
ejaculated  Tinman,   shivering. 

"Fiddle,  man;  you  want  some  hot  breakfast  in  you. 
Your  sister  has  gone  on  to  Elba.  Come  you  too,  old 
Mart;  and  where 's  that  plucky  little  girl  who  stood  by 
you  ?  " 

"  Was  there  a  girl  ?  "  said  Tinman. 

"  Yes,  and  there  was  a  boy  wanted  to  help."  Van  Diemen 
pointed  at  Herbert. 

Tinman  looked,  and  piteously  asked,  "Have  you  exam- 
ined Marine  Parade  and  Belle  Vue?  It  depends  on  the 
tide!" 

"  Here  is  little  Jane,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Crickledon. 

"Pall  in,"  Van  Diemen  said  to  little  Jane. 

The  girl  was  bobbing  curtseys  to  Annette,  on  her 
introduction  by  Mrs.  Crickledon. 

"Martin,  you  stay  at  my  house;  you  stay  at  Elba  till 
you  get  things  comfortable  about  you,  and  then  you  shall 
have  the  Crouch  for  a  year,  rent  free.     Eh,  Netty  ?  " 

Annette  chimed  in:  "Anything  we  can  do,  anything. 
Nothing  can  be  too  much." 

Van  Diemen  was  praising  little  Jane  for  her  devotion  to 
her  master. 

"  Master  have  been  so  kind  to  me,"  said  little  Jane. 

"  Now,  march ;  it  is  cold,"  Van  Diemen  gave  the  word, 
and  Herbert  stood  by  Mary  rather  dejectedly,  foreseeing 
that  his  prospects  at  Elba  were  darkened. 

"  Now  then,  Mart,  left  leg  forward,"  Van  Diemen  linked 
his  arm  in  his  friend's. 

"  I  must  have  a  look,"  Tinman  broke  from  him,  and  cast 
a  forlorn  look  of  farewell  on  the  last  of  the  house  on  the 
beach. 

"You've  got  me  left  to  you,  old  Mart;  don't  forget 
that,"  said  Van  Diemen. 

Tinman's  chest  fell.  "Yes,  yes,"  he  responded.  He 
was  touched. 

"  And  I  told  those  fellows  if  they  landed  you  dry  they 


THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH         15& 

should  have  —  I  *d  give  them  double  pay  ;  and  I  do  believe 
they  've  earned  their  money." 

"  I  don't  think  I  'm  very  wet,  I  'm  cold,"  said  Tinman. 

"  You  can't  help  being  cold,  so  come  along." 

"  But,  Philip  ! "  Tinman  lifted  his  voice ;  "  I  've  lost 
everything.  I  tried  to  save  a  little.  I  worked  hard,  I 
exposed  my  life,  and  all  in  vain." 

The  voice  of  little  Jane  was  heard. 

"  What 's  the  matter  with  the  child  ?  "  said  Van  Diemen. 

Annette  went  up  to  her  quietly. 

But  little  Jane  was  addressing  her  master. 

"  Oh !  if  you  please,  I  did  manage  to  save  something 
the  last  thing  when  the  boat  was  at  the  window,  and  if 
you  please,  sir,  all  the  bundles  is  lost,  but  I  saved  you  a 
paper-cutter,  and  a  letter  Horse  Guards,  and  here  they  are, 
sir." 

The  grateful  little  creature  drew  the  square  letter  and 
paper-cutter  from  her  bosom,  and  held  them  out  to  Mr. 
Tinman. 

It  was  a  letter  of  the  imposing  size,  with  The  Horse 
Guards  very  distinctly  inscribed  on  it  in  Tinman's  best 
round  hand,  to  strike  his  vindictive  spirit  as  positively 
intended  for  transmission,  and  give  him  sight  of  his  power 
to  wound  if  it  pleased  him  ;  —  as  it  might. 

"  What ! "  cried  he,  not  clearly  comprehending  how  much 
her  devotion  had  accomplished  for  him. 

"  A  letter  to  the  Horse  Guards !  "  cried  Van  Diemen. 

"  Here,  give  it  me,"  said  little  Jane's  master,  and  grasped 
it  nervously. 

"  What 's  in  that  letter  ?  "  Van  Diemen  asked.  "  Let 
me  look  at  that  letter.  Don't  tell  me  it's  private  corre- 
spondence." 

"  My  dear  Philip,  dear  friend,  kind  thanks ;  it 's  not  a 
letter,"  said  Tinman. 

"  Not  a  letter !  why,  I  read  the  address,  '  Horse  Guards.' 
I  read  it  as  it  passed  into  your  hands.  Now,  my  man,  one 
look  at  that  letter,  or  take  the  consequences." 

"  Kind  thanks  for  your  assistance,  dear  Philip,  indeed ! 
Oh!  this  ?     Oh !  it 's  nothing."     He  tore  it  in  halves. 

His  face  was  of  the  winter  sea-colour,  with  the  chalk- 
wash  on  it- 


156  THE  HOUSE  ON  THE  BEACH 

"  Tear  again,  and  I  shall  know  what  to  think  of  the 
contents,"  Van  Diemen  frowned.  "  Let  me  see  what  you  've 
said.  You  've  sworn  you  would  do  it,  and  there  it  is  at 
last,  by  miracle ;  but  let  me  see  it  and  I  '11  overlook  it,  and 
you  shall  be  my  house-mate  still.     If  not ! " 

Tinman  tore  away. 

"You  mistake,  you  mistake,  you  're  entirely  wrong,"  he 
said,  as  he  pursued  with  desperation  his  task  of  rendering 
every  word  unreadable. 

Van  Diemen  stood  fronting  him ;  the  accumulation  of 
stores  of  petty  injuries  and  meannesses  which  he  had  en- 
dured from  this  man,  swelled  under  the  whip  of  the  con- 
clusive exhibition  of  treachery.  He  looked  so  black  that 
Annette  called  "Papa!" 

"  Philip,"  said  Tinman.     "  Philip!  my  best  friend  !  " 

"Pooh,  you're  a  poor  creature.  Come  along  and  break- 
fast at  Elba,  and  you  can  sleep  at  the  Crouch,  and  good- 
night to  you.  Crickledon,"  he  called  to  the  houseless 
couple,  "you  stop  at  Elba  till  I  build  you  a  shop." 

With  these  words,  Van  Diemen  led  the  way,  walking 
alone.     Herbert  was  compelled  to  walk  with  Tinman. 

Mary  and  Annette  came  behind,  and  Mary  pinched  An- 
nette's arm  so  sharply  that  she  must  have  cried  out  aloud 
Viad  it  been  possible  for  her  to  feel  pain  at  that  moment, 
tnstead  of  a  personal  exultation,  flying  wildly  over  the 
diash  of  astonishment  and  horror,  like  a  sea-bird  over  the 
foam. 

In  the  first  silent  place  they  came  to,  Mary  murmured 
the  words  :  "  Little  Jane." 

Annette  looked  round  at  Mrs.  Crickledon,  who  wound 
up  the  procession,  taking  little  Jane  by  the  hand.  Little 
Jane  was  walking  demurely,  with  a  placid  face.  Annette 
glanced  at  Tinman.  Her  excited  feelings  nearly  rose  to 
a  scream  of  laughter.  For  hours  after,  Mary  had  only  to 
say  to  her :  "  Little  Jane,"  to  produce  the  same  convulsion. 
It  rolled  her  heart  and  senses  in  a  headlong  surge,  shook 
her  to  burning  tears,  and  seemed  to  her  ideas  the  most 
wonderful  running  together  of  opposite  things  ever  known 
on  this  earth.  The  young  lady  was  ashamed  of  her  laugh- 
ter ;  but  she  was  deeply  indebted  to  it,  for  never  was  mind 
made  so  clear  by  that  beneficent  exercise. 


FARINA 


FARINA 


THE   WHITE   ROSE   CLUB 

In  those  lusty  ages  when  the  Kaisers  lifted  high  the  golden 
goblet  of  Aachen,  and  drank,  elbow  upward,  the  green-eyed 
wine  of  old  romance,  there  lived,  a  bow-shot  from  the  bones 
of  the  Eleven  Thousand  Virgins  and  the  Three  Holy 
Kings,  a  prosperous  Rhinelander,  by  name  Gottlieb  Gro- 
schen,  or,  as  it  was  sometimes  ennobled,  Gottlieb  von 
Groschen ;  than  whom  no  wealthier  merchant  bartered  for 
the  glory  of  his  ancient  mother-city,  nor  more  honoured 
burgess  swallowed  impartially  red  juice  and  white  under 
the  shadow  of  his  own  fig-tree. 

Vine-hills,  among  the  hottest  sun-bibbers  of  the  Eheingaw, 
glistened  in  the  roll  of  Gottlieb's  possessions ;  corn- 
acres  below  Cologne  ;  basalt-quarries  about  Linz  ;  mineral- 
springs  in  Nassau,  a  legacy  of  the  Romans  to  the  genius 
and  enterprise  of  the  first  of  German  traders.  He  tjould 
have  bought  up  every  hawking  crag,  owner  and  all,  from 
Hatto's  Tower  to  Rheineck.  Lore-ley,  combing  her  yellow 
locks  against  the  night-cloud,  beheld  old  Gottlieb* e  rafts 
endlessly  stealing  on  the  moonlight  through  the  iron  pass 
she  peoples  above  St.  Goar.  A  wailful  host  were  tbe 
wives  of  his  raftsmen  widowed  there  by  her  watery  music  ! 

This  worthy  citizen  of  Cologne  held  vasty  manuscript 
letters  of  the  Kaiser  addressed  to  him: 

-<  Dear  Well-born  son  and  Subject  of  mine,  Gottlieb ! " 
and  he  was  easy  with  the  proudest  princes  of  the  Holy 
German  Realm.  For  Gottlieb  was  a  money-lender  and  an 
honest  man  in  one  body.  He  laid  out  for  the  plenteous 
harvests  of  usury,  not  pressing  the  seasons  with  too  much 


160  FARINA 

rigour.  "I  sow  my  seed  in  winter,"  said  he,  "and  hope 
to  reap  good  profit  in  autumn ;  but  if  the  crop  be  scanty, 
better  let  it  lie  and  fatten  the  soil." 

"  Old  earth  's  the  wisest  creditor,"  he  would  add ;  "  she 
never  squeezes  the  sun,  but  just  takes  what  he  can  give 
her  year  by  year,  and  so  makes  sure  of  good  annual  interest." 

Therefore  when  people  asked  Gottlieb  how  he  had  risen 
to  such  a  pinnacle  of  fortune,  the  old  merchant  screwed  his 
eye  into  its  wisest  corner,  and  answered  slyly,  "Because 
I  've  always  been  a  student  of  the  heavenly  bodies ; "  a 
communication  which  failed  not  to  make  the  orbs  and 
systems  objects  of  ardent  popular  worship  in  Cologne, 
where  the  science  was  long  since  considered  alchymic, 
and  still  may  be. 

Seldom  could  the  Kaiser  go  to  war  on  Welschland  with- 
out first  taking  earnest  counsel  of  his  Well-born  son  and 
Subject  Gottlieb,  and  lightening  his  chests.  Indeed  the 
imperial  pastime  must  have  ceased,  and  the  Kaiser  had 
languished  but  for  him.  Cologne  counted  its  illustrious 
citizen  something  more  than  man.  The  burghers  doffed 
when  he  passed;  and  scampish  leather-draggled  urchins 
gazed  after  him  with  preternatural  respect  on  their  hanging 
chins,  as  if  a  gold-mine  of  great  girth  had  walked  through 
the  awe-struck  game. 

But,  for  the  young  men  of  Cologne  he  had  a  higher  claim 
to  reverence  as  father  of  the  fair  Margarita,  the  White  Rose 
of  Germany ;  a  noble  maiden,  peerless,  and  a  jewel  for 
princes. 

The  devotion  of  these  youths  should  give  them  a  name  in 
chivalry.  In  her  honour,  daily  and  nightly,  they  earned 
among  themselves  black  bruises  and  paraded  discoloured 
countenances,  with  the  humble  hope  to  find  it  pleasing  in 
her  sight.  The  tender  fanatics  went  in  bands  up  and  down 
Bhineland,  challenging  wayfarers  and  the  peasantry  with 
staff  and  beaker  to  acknowledge  the  supremacy  of  their 
mistress.  Whoso  of  them  journeyed  into  foreign  parts, 
wrote  home  boasting  how  many  times  his  head  had  been 
broken  on  behalf  of  the  fair  Margarita;  and  if  this  hap- 
pened very  often,  a  spirit  of  envy  was  created,  which 
compelled  him,  when  he  returned,  to  verify  his  prowess  on 
no  less  than  a  score  of  his  rivals.    Not  to  possess  a  beauty- 


THE    WHITE   ROSE  CLUB  161 

scar,  as  the  wounds  received  in  these  endless  combats  were 
called,  became  the  sign  of  inferiority,  so  that  much  volun- 
tary maiming  was  conjectured  to  be  going  on;  and  to  obviate 
this  piece  of  treachery,  minutes  of  fights  were  taken  and 
attested,  setting  forth  that  a  certain  glorious  cut  or  crack 
was  honourably  won  in  fair  field ;  on  what  occasion  ;  and 
from  whom ;  every  member  of  the  White  Eose  Club  keep- 
ing his  particular  scroll,  and,  on  days  of  festival  and 
holiday,  wearing  it  haughtily  in  his  helm.  Strangers 
entering  Cologne  were  astonished  at  the  hideous  appearance 
of  the  striplings,  and  thought  they  never  had  observed  so 
ugly  a  race  ;  but  they  were  forced  to  admit  the  fine  influence 
of  beauty  on  commerce,  seeing  that  the  consumption  of  beer 
increased  almost  hourly.  All  Bavaria  could  not  equal 
Cologne  for  quantity  made  away  with. 

The  chief  members  of  the  White  Eose  Club  were  Berthold 
Schmidt,  the  rich  goldsmith's  son ;  Dietrich  Schill,  son  of 
the  imperial  saddler ;  Heinrich  Abt,  Franz  Endermann,  and 
Ernst  Geller,  sous  of  chief  burghers,  each  of  whom  carried 
a  yard-long  scroll  in  his  cap,  and  was  too  disfigured  in 
person  for  men  to  require  an  inspection  of  the  document. 
They  were  dangerous  youths  to  meet,  for  the  oaths,  cere- 
monies, and  recantations  they  demanded  from  every  way- 
farer, under  the  rank  of  baron,  were  what  few  might 
satisfactorily  perform,  if  lovers  of  woman  other  than  the 
fair  Margarita,  or  loyal  husbands ;  and  what  none  save 
trained  heads  and  stomachs  could  withstand,  however 
naturally  manful.  The  captain  of  the  Club  was  he  who 
could  drink  most  beer  without  intermediate  sighing,  and 
whose  face  reckoned  the  proudest  number  of  slices  and 
mixture  of  colours.  The  captaincy  was  most  in  dispute 
between  Dietrich  Schill  and  Berthold  Schmidt,  who,  in  the 
heat  and  constancy  of  contention,  were  gradually  losing 
likeness  to  man.  "  Good  coin,"  they  gloried  to  reflect, 
"needs  no  stamp." 

One  youth  in  Cologne  held  out  against  the  standing 
tyranny,  and  chose  to  do  beauty  homage  in  his  own  fashion, 
and  at  his  leisure.  It  was  Farina,  and  oaths  were  registered 
against  him  over  empty  beer-barrels.  An  axiom  of  the 
White  Eose  Club  laid  it  down  that  everybody  must  be 
baamoured  of  Margarita,  and  the  conscience  of  the  Club 

U 


162  FARINA 

made  them  trebly  suspicious  of  those  who  were  not 
members.  They  had  the  consolation  of  knowing  that 
Farina  was  poor,  but  then  he  was  affirmed  a  student  of 
Black  Arts,  and  from  such  a  one  the  worst  might  reason- 
ably be  feared.     He  might  bewitch  Margarita! 

Dietrich  Schill  was  deputed  by  the  Club  to  sound  the 
White  Rose  herself  on  the  subject  of  Farina,  and  one 
afternoon  in  the  vintage  season,  when  she  sat  under  the 
hot  vine-poles  among  maiden  friends,  eating  ripe  grapes,  up 
sauntered  Dietrich,  smirking,  cap  in  hand,  with  his  scroll 
trailed  behind  him. 

"  Wilt  thou  ?  "  said  Margarita,  offering  him  a  bunch. 

"  Unhappy  villain  that  I  am!"  replied  Dietrich,  gesticu- 
lating fox-like  refusal ;  "  if  I  but  accept  a  favour,  I  break 
faith  with  the  Club." 

"Break  it  to  pleasure  me,"  said  Margarita,  smiling 
wickedly. 

Dietrich  gasped.  He  stood  on  tiptoe  to  see  if  any  of  the 
Club  were  by,  and  half-stretched  out  his  hand.  A  mocking 
laugh  caused  him  to  draw  it  back  as  if  stung.  The  grapes 
fell.  Farina  was  at  Margarita's  feet  offering  them  in 
return. 

"  Wilt  thou  ? "  said  Margarita,  with  softer  stress,  and 
slight  excess  of  bloom  in  her  cheeks. 

Farina  put  the  purple  cluster  to  his  breast,  and  clutched 
them  hard  on  his  heart,  still  kneeling. 

Margarita's  brow  and  bosom  seemed  to  be  reflections  of 
the  streaming  crimson  there.  She  shook  her  face  to  the 
sky,  and  affected  laughter  at  the  symbol.  Her  companions 
clapped  hands.  Farina's  eyes  yearned  to  her  once,  and 
then  he  rose  and  joined  in  the  pleasantry. 

Fury  helped  Dietrich  to  forget  his  awkwardness.  He 
touched  Farina  on  the  shoulder  with  two  fingers,  and 
muttered  huskily:  "The  Club  never  allow  that." 

Farina  bowed,  as  to  thank  him  deeply  for  the  rules  of 
the  Club.  "I  am  not  a  member,  you  know,"  said  he,  and 
strolled  to  a  seat  close  by  Margarita. 

Dietrich  glared  after  him.  As  head  of  a  Club  he  under- 
stood the  use  of  symbols.  He  had  lost  a  splendid  oppor- 
tunity, and  Farina  had  seized  it.  Farina  had  robbed 
him. 


THE   WHITE  ROSE  CLUB  163 

"May  I  speak  with  Mistress  Margarita?"  inquired  the 
White  Rose  chief,  in  a  ragged  voice. 

"Surely,  Dietrich!  do  speak,"  said  Margarita. 

"Alone?"  he  continued. 

"Is  that  allowed  by  the  Club  ?"  said  one  of  the  young 
girls,  with  a  saucy  glance. 

Dietrich  deigned  no  reply,  but  awaited  Margarita's 
decision.  She  hesitated  a  second;  then  stood  up  her  full 
height  before  him ;  faced  him  steadily,  and  beckoned  him 
some  steps  up  the  vine-path.  Dietrich  bowed,  and  pass- 
ing Farina,  informed  him  that  the  Club  would  wring  satis- 
faction out  of  him  for  the  insult. 

Farina  laughed,  but  answered,  "Look,  you  of  the  Club! 
beer-swilling  has  improved  your  manners  as  much  as 
fighting  has  beautified  your  faces.  Go  on ;  drink  and  fight ! 
but  remember  that  the  Kaiser 's  coming,  and  fellows  with 
him  who  will  not  be  bullied." 

"  What  mean  you  ? "  cried  Dietrich,  lurching  round  on 
his  enemy. 

"Not  so  loud,  friend,"  returned  Farina.  "Or  do  you 
wish  to  frighten  the  maidens  ?  I  mean  this,  that  the  Club 
had  better  give  as  little  offence  as  possible,  and  keep  their 
eyes  as  wide  as  they  can,  if  they  want  to  be  of  service  to 
Mistress  Margarita." 

Dietrich  turned  off  with  a  grunt. 

"  Now !  "  said  Margarita. 

She  was  tapping  her  foot.  Dietrich  grew  unfaithful 
to  the  Club,  and  looked  at  her  longer  than  his  mission 
warranted.  She  was  bright  as  the  sunset  gardens  of  the 
Golden  Apples.  The  braids  of  her  yellow  hair  were  bound 
in  wreaths,  and  on  one  side  of  her  head  a  saffron  crocus  was 
stuck  with  the  bell  downward.  Sweetness,  song,  and  wit 
hung  like  dews  of  morning  on  her  grape-stained  lips.  She 
wore  a  scarlet  corset  with  bands  of  black  velvet  across  her 
shoulders.  The  girlish  gown  was  thin  blue  stuff,  and  fell 
short  over  her  firm-set  feet,  neatly  cased  in  white  leather 
with  buckles.  There  was  witness  in  her  limbs  and  the  way 
she  carried  her  neck  of  an  amiable,  but  capable,  dragon, 
ready,  when  aroused,  to  bristle  up  and  guard  the  Golden 
Apples  against  all  save  the  rightful  claimant.  Yet  her 
nether  lip  and  little  white  chin-ball  had  a  dreamy  droop; 


164  FARINA 

her  frank  blue  eyes  went  straight  into  the  speaker:  the 
dragon  slept.  It  was  a  dangerous  charm.  "  For,"  says  the 
minnesinger,  "what  ornament  more  enchants  us  on  a 
young  beauty  than  the  soft  slumber  of  a  strength  never 
yet  called  forth,  and  that  herself  knows  not  of!  It  sings 
double  things  to  the  heart  of  knighthood ;  lures,  and  warns 
us;  woos,  and  threatens.  'Tis  as  nature,  shining  peace, 
yet  the  mother  of  storm." 

"There  is  no  man,"  rapturously  exclaims  Heinrich  von 
der  Jungferweide,  "can  resist  the  desire  to  win  a  sweet 
treasure  before  which  lies  a  dragon  sleeping.  The  very 
danger  prattles  promise." 

But  the  dragon  must  really  sleep,  as  with  Margarita. 
"A  sham  dragon,  shamming  sleep,  has  destroyed  more 
virgins   than  all  the   heathen   emperors,"  says   old  Hans 
Aepfelmann  of  Dlisseldorf. 

Margarita's  foot  was  tapping  quicker. 
"  Speak,  Dietrich !  "  she  said. 

Dietrich  declared  to  the  Club  that  at  this  point  he  mut- 
tered, "  We  love  you. "  Margarita  was  glad  to  believe  he 
had  not  spoken  of  himself.  He  then  informed  her  of  the 
fears  entertained  by  the  Club,  sworn  to  watch  over  and 
protect  her,  regarding  Farina's  arts. 
"  And  what  fear  you  ?  "  said  Margarita. 
"We  fear,  sweet  mistress,  he  may  be  in  league  with 
Sathanas,"  replied  Dietrich. 

"Truly,  then,"  said  Margarita,  "of  all  the  youths  in 
Cologne  he  is  the  least  like  his  confederate." 

Dietrich  gulped  and  winked,  like  a  patient  recovering 
wry-faced  from  an  abhorred  potion. 

"  We  have  warned  you,  Fraulein  Groschen !  "  he  ex- 
claimed. "It  now  becomes  our  duty  to  see  that  you  are 
not  snared." 

Margarita  reddened,  and  returned:  "You  are  kind.  But 
I  am  a  Christian  maiden  and  not  a  Pagan  soldan,  and  I  do 
not  require  a  body  of  tawny  guards  at  my  heels." 

Thereat  she  flung  back  to  her  companions,  and  began 
wtaining  her  pretty  mouth  with  grapes  anew. 


THE  TAPESTRY   WORK  165 


THE   TAPESTRY  WORK 

Fair  maids  will  have  their  hero  in  history.  Siegfried 
was  Margarita's  chosen.  She  sang  of  Siegfried  all  over 
the  house.  "  O  the  old  days  of  Germany,  when  such  a  hero 
walked !  "  she  sang. 

"And  who  wins  Margarita,"  mused  Farina,  "happier 
than  Siegfried,  has  in  his  arms  Brunhild  and  Chrimhild 
together ! " 

Crowning  the  young  girl's  breast  was  a  cameo,  and  the 
skill  of  some  cunning  artist  out  of  Welschland  had  wrought 
on  it  the  story  of  the  Drachenfels.  Her  bosom  heaved  the 
battle  up  and  down. 

This  cameo  was  a  north  star  to  German  manhood,  but 
caused  many  chaste  expressions  of  abhorrence  from  Aunt 
Lisbeth,  Gottlieb's  unmarried  sister,  who  seemed  instinc- 
tively to  take  part  with  the  Dragon.  She  was  a  frail- 
fashioned  little  lady,  with  a  face  betokening  the  perpetual 
smack  of  lemon,  and  who  reigned  in  her  brother's  house- 
hold when  the  good  wife  was  gone.  Margarita's  robust- 
ness was  beginning  to  alarm  and  shock  Aunt  Lisbeth's 
sealed  stock  of  virtue. 

"  She  must  be  watched,  such  a  inadl  as  that,"  said  Aunt 
Lisbeth.     "  Ursula!  what  limbs  she  has!  " 

Margarita  was  watched;  but  the  spy  being  neither  foe 
nor  friend,  nothing  was  discovered  against  her.  This  did 
not  satisfy  Aunt  Lisbeth,  whose  own  suspicion  was  her 
best  witness.     She  allowed  that  Margarita  dissembled  well. 

"But,"  said  she  to  her  niece,  "though  it  is  good  in  a  girl 
not  to  flaunt  these  naughtinesses  in  effrontery,  I  care  for  you 
too  much  not  to  say  —  Be  what  you  seem,  my  little  one! " 

"  And  that  ami!"  exclaimed  Margarita,  starting  up  and 
towering. 

"Bight  good,  my  niece,"  Lisbeth  squealed;  "but  now 
Frau  Groschen  lies  in  God's  acre,  you  owe  your  duty  to 
me,  mind !     Did  you  confess  last  week  ?  " 

"From  beginning  to  end,"  replied  Margarita. 


166  FARINA 

Aunt  Lisbeth  fixed  pious  reproach  on  Margarita's  cameo. 

"  And  still  you  wear  that  thing  '!  " 

u  Why  not  ?  "  said  Margarita. 

"Girl!  who  would  bid  you  set  it  in  such  a  place  save 
Satan  ?  Oh,  thou  poor  lost  child !  that  the  eyes  of  the  idle 
youths  may  be  drawn  there!  and  thou  become  his  snare  to 
others,  Margarita!  What  was  that  Welsh  wandering  jug- 
gler but  the  foul  fiend  himself,  mayhap,  thou  maiden  of 
sin!  They  say  he  has  been  seen  in  Cologne  lately.  He 
was  swarthy  as  Satan  and  limped  of  one  leg.  Good  Master 
in  heaven,  protect  us!  it  was  Satan  himself  I  could 
swear!" 

Aunt  Lisbeth  crossed  brow  and  breast. 

Margarita  had  commenced  fingering  the  cameo,  as  if  to 
tear  it  away;  but  Aunt  Lisbeth's  finish  made  her  laugh 
outright. 

"Where  I  see  no  harm,  aunty,  I  shall  think  the  good 
God  is,"  she  answered;  "and  where  I  see  there  's  harm,  I 
shall  think  Satan  lurks." 

A  simper  of  sour  despair  passed  over  Aunt  Lisbeth.  She 
sighed,  and  was  silent,  being  one  of  those  very  weak  reeds 
who  are  easily  vanquished  and  never  overcome. 

"Let  us  go  on  with  the  Tapestry,  child,"  said  she. 

Now,  Margarita  was  ambitious  of  completing  a  certain 
Tapestry  for  presentation  to  Kaiser  Heinrich  on  his  entry 
into  Cologne  after  his  last  campaign  on  the  turbaned 
Danube.  The  subject  was  again  her  beloved  Siegfried 
slaying  the  Dragon  on  Drachenfels.  Whenever  Aunt 
Lisbeth  indulged  in  any  bitter  virginity,  and  was  over- 
matched by  Margarita's  frank  maidenhood,  she  hung  out 
this  tapestry  as  a  flag  of  truce.  They  were  working  it  in 
bits,  not  having  contrivances  to  do  it  in  a  piece.  Mar- 
garita took  Siegfried  and  Aunt  Lisbeth  the  Dragon.  They 
shared  the  crag  between  them.  A  rough ish  gleam  of  the 
Rhine  toward  Nonnenwerth  could  be  already  made  out, 
Roland's  Corner  hanging  like  a  sentinel  across  the  chanting 
island,  as  one  top-heavy  with  long  watch. 

Aunt  Lisbeth  was  a  great  proficient  in  the  art,  and  had 
taught  Margarita.  The  little  lady  learnt  it,  with  many 
other  gruesome  matters,  in  the  Palatine  of  Bohemia's 
family.     She   usually   talked  of  the   spectres  of  Hollen- 


THE  TAPESTRY   WORK  167 

bogenblitz  Castle  in  the  passing  of  the  threads.  Those 
were  dismal  spectres  in  Bohemia,  smelling  of  murder  and 
the  charnel-breatb  of  midnight.  They  uttered  noises  that 
wintered  the  blood,  and  revealed  sights  that  stiffened  hair 
three  feet  long;  ay,  and  kept  it  stiff! 

Margarita  placed  herself  on  a  settle  by  the  low-arched 
window,  and  Aunt  Lisbeth  sat  facing  her.  An  evening  sun 
blazoned  the  buttresses  of  the  Cathedral,  and  shadowed 
the  work-frames  of  the  peaceful  couple  to  a  temperate 
light.  Margarita  unrolled  a  sampler  sheathed  with  twists 
of  divers  coloured  threads,  and  was  soon  busy  silver- 
threading  Siegfried's  helm  and  horns. 

"I  told  you  of  the  steward,  poor  Kraut,  did  I  not, 
Child?"  inquired  Aunt  Lisbeth,  quietly  clearing  her 
throat. 

"  Many  times ! "  said  Margarita,  and  went  on  humming 
over  her  knee: 

"  Her  love  was  a  Baron, 
A  Baron  so  bold ; 
She  loved  him  for  love, 
He  loved  her  for  gold." 

"He  must  see  for  himself,  and  be  satisfied,"  continued 
Aunt  Lisbeth;  "and  Holy  Thomas  to  warn  him  for  an 
example!     Poor  Kraut!" 

"  Poor  Kraut !  "  echoed  Margarita. 

"  The  King  loved  wine,  and  the  Knight  loved  wine, 
And  they  loved  the  summer  weather: 
They  might  have  loved  each  other  well, 
But  for  oue  they  loved  together." 

"  You  may  say,  poor  Kraut,  child ! "  said  Aunt  Lisbeth. 
"Well!  his  face  was  before  that  as  red  as  this  dragon's 
jaw,  and  ever  after  he  went  about  as  white  as  a  pullet/s 
egg.     That  was  something  wonderful!" 

"  That  was  it !  "  chimed  Margarita. 

"  0  the  King  he  loved  his  lawful  wife, 
The  Knight  a  lawless  lady : 
And  ten  on  one  made  ringing  strife, 
Beneath  the  forest  shady." 

"Fifty  to  one,  child!  "  said  Aunt  Lisbeth.  "You  forget 
the  story.     They  made  Kraut  sit  with  them  at  the  jabber- 


168  FARINA 

ing  feast,  the  only  mortal  there.  The  walls  were  full  of 
eye-sockets  without  eyes,  but  phosphorus  instead,  burning 
blue  and  damp." 

"  Not  to-night,  aunty  dear!  It  frightens  me  so,"  pleaded 
Margarita,  for  she  saw  the  dolor  coming. 

"Night!  when  it's  broad  mid-day,  thou  timid  one! 
Good  heaven  take  pity  on  such  as  thou!  The  dish  was 
seven  feet  in  length  by  four  broad.  Kraut  measured  it 
with  his  eye,  and  never  forgot  it.  Not  he!  When  the 
dish-cover  was  lifted,  there  he  saw  himself  lying,  boiled ! 

" '  I  did  not  feel  uncomfortable  then, '  Kraut  told  us.  '  It 
seemed  natural.' 

"  His  face,  as  it  lay  there,  he  says,  was  quite  calm,  only 
a  little  wrinkled,  and  piggish-looking-like.  There  was  the 
mole  on  his  chin,  and  the  pucker  under  his  left  eyelid. 
Well!  the  Baron  carved.  All  the  guests  were  greedy  for  a 
piece  of  him.  Some  cried  out  for  breast;  some  for  toes. 
It  was  shuddering  cold  to  sit  and  hear  that!  The  Baroness 
said,  'Cheek!'" 

"Ah!"  shrieked  Margarita,  "that  can  I  not  bear!  I 
will  not  hear  it,  aunt;  I  will  not!" 

"Cheek!"  Aunt  Lisbeth  reiterated,  nodding  to  the  floor. 

Margarita  put  her  fingers  to  her  ears. 

"Still,  Kraut  says,  even  then  he  felt  nothing  odd.  Of 
course  he  was  horrified  to  be  sitting  with  spectres  as  you 
and  I  should  be ;  but  the  first  tremble  of  it  was  over.  He 
had  plunged  into  the  bath  of  horrors,  and  there  he  was. 
I  've  heard  that  you  must  pronounce  the  names  of  the 
Virgin  and  Trinity,  sprinkling  water  round  you  all  the 
while  for  three  minutes ;  and  if  you  do  this  without  inter- 
ruption, everything  shall  disappear.  So  they  say.  '  Oh! 
dear  heaven  of  mercy ! '  says  Kraut,  '  what  I  felt  when 
the  Baron  laid  his  long  hunting-knife  across  my  left 
cheek!'" 

Here  Aunt  Lisbeth  lifted  her  eyes  to  dote  upon  Marga- 
rita's fright.  She  was  very  displeased  to  find  her  niece, 
with  elbows  on  the  window-sill  and  hands  round  her  head, 
quietly  gazing  into  the  street. 

She  said  severely,  "  Where  did  you  learn  that  song  you 
were  last  singing,  Margarita  ?     Speak,  thou  girl! " 

Margarita  laughed. 


THE  TAPESTRY   WORK  169 

"  The  thrush,  and  the  lark,  and  the  hlackbird, 
They  taught  me  how  to  sing : 
And  O  that  the  hawk  would  lend  his  eye, 
And  the  eagle  lend  his  wing." 

"1  will  not  hear  these  shameless  songs,"  exclaimed  Aunt 
Lisbeth. 

"For  I  would  view  the  lands  they  view, 
And  be  where  they  have  been* 
It  is  not  enough  to  be  singing 
Eor  ever  in  dells  unseen ! " 

A  voice  was  heard  applauding  her.  "  Good !  right  good ! 
Carol  again,  Gretelchen !  my  birdie ! " 

Margarita  turned,  and  beheld  her  father  in  the  doorway. 
She  tripped  towards  him,  and  heartily  gave  him  their 
kiss  of  meeting.     Gottlieb  glanced  at  the  helm  of  Siegfried. 

"Guessed  the  work  was  going  well;  you  sing  so  light- 
somely  to-day,  Grete!  Very  pretty!  And  that's  Drach- 
enfels  ?  Bones  of  the  Virgins !  what  a  bold  fellow  was 
Siegfried,  and  a  lucky,  to  have  the  neatest  lass  in  Deutsch- 
land  in  love  with  him.  Well,  we  must  marry  her  to  Sieg- 
fried after  all,  I  believe !  Aha  ?  or  somebody  as  good  as 
Siegfried.     So  chirrup  on,  my  darling!" 

"Aunt  Lisbeth  does  not  approve  of  my  songs,"  replied 
Margarita,  untwisting  some  silver  threads. 

"Do  thy  father's  command,  girl!  "  said  Aunt  Lisbeth. 

"  And  doing  his  command, 

Should  I  do  a  thing  of  ill,  — 
I  'd  rather  die  to  his  lovely  face, 
Than  wanton  at  his  will." 

"There  —  there,"  said  Aunt  Lisbeth,  straining  out  her 
fingers;  "you  see,  Gottlieb,  what  over-indulgence  brings 
her  to.  Not  another  girl  in  blessed  Rhineland,  and 
Bohemia  to  boot,  dared  say  such  words !  —  than  —  I  can't 
repeat  them!  —  don't  ask  me!  —  She  's  becoming  a  Frank - 
ish  girl ! " 

"  What  ballad  's  that  ?  "  said  Gottlieb,  smiling. 

"The  Ballad  of  Holy  Ottilia;  and  her  lover  was  sold  to 
darkness.     And  she  loved  him  —  loved  him  —  " 

"  As  you  love  Siegfried,  you  little  one  ?  " 

"More,  mv  father;  for  she  saw  Winkried,  and  I  never 


170  FARINA 

saw  Siegfried.  Ah!  if  I  had  seen  Siegfried!  Never  mind. 
She  loved  him ;  but  she  loved  Virtue  more.  And  Virtue  is 
the  child  of  God,  and  the  good  God  forgave  her  for  loving 
Winkried,  the  Devil's  son,  because  she  loved  Virtue  more, 
and  He  rescued  her  as  she  was  being  dragged  down  —down 

—  down,  and  was  half  fainting  with  the  smell  of  brimstone 

—  rescued  her  and  had  her  carried  into  His  Glory,  head  and 
feet,  on  the  wings  of  angels,  before  all  men,  as  a  hope  to 
little  maidens. 

"  And  when  I  thought  that  I  was  lost, 
I  found  that  I  was  saved, 
And  I  was  borne  through  blessed  clouds, 
Where  the  banners  of  bliss  were  waved." 

"And  so  you  think  you,  too,  may  fall  in  love  with  Devils* 
sons,  girl  ?  "  was  Aunt  Lisbeth's  comment. 

"Do  look  at  Lisbeth's  Dragon,  little  Heart!  it's  so 
like!"  said  Margarita  to  her  father. 

Old  Gottlieb  twitted  his  hose,  and  chuckled. 

"She  's  my  girl!  that  may  be  seen,"  said  he,  patting  her, 
and  wheezed  up  from  his  chair  to  waddle  across  to  the 
Dragon.  But  Aunt  Lisbeth  tartly  turned  the  Dragon  to 
the  wall. 

"  It  is  not  yet  finished,  Gottlieb,  and  must  not  be  looked 
at,"  she  interposed.  "I  will  call  for  wood,  and  see  to  a 
fire:  these  evenings  of  Spring  wax  cold: "  and  away  whim- 
pered Aunt  Lisbeth. 

Margarita  sang : 

"  I  with  my  playmates, 
In  riot  and  disorder, 
Were  gathering  herb  and  blossom 
Along  the  forest  border." 

"Thy  mother's  song,  child  of  my  heart! "  said  Gottlieb; 
"  but  vex  not  good  Lisbeth :  she  loves  thee ! " 

"  And  do  yon  think  she  loves  me  ? 
And  will  you  say  't  is  true  ? 
O,  and  will  she  have  me, 
When  I  come  up  to  woo  ?  " 

"  Thou  leaping  doe !  thou  chattering  pie ! "  said  Gottlieb. 


THE  TAPESTRY   WORK  171 

"  She  shall  have  ribbons  and  trinkets, 
And  shine  like  a  morn  of  May, 
When  we  are  off  to  the  little  hill-church. 
Our  flowery  bridal  way." 

" That  she  shall ;  and  something  more!"  cried  Gottlieb. 
"But,  hark  thee,  Gretelchen;  the  Kaiser  will  be  here  in 
three  days.  Thou  dear  one!  had  I  not  stored  and  hoarded 
all  for  thee,  I  should  now  have  my  feet  on  a  hearthstone 
where  even  he  might  warm  his  boot.  So  get  thy  best 
dresses  and  jewels  in  order,  and  look  thyself,  proud  as  any 
in  the  land.  A  simple  burgher's  daughter  now,  Grete; 
but  so  shalt  thou  not  end,  my  buttei-fly,  or  there  's  neither 
worth  nor  wit  in  Gottlieb  Groschen !  " 

"Three  days! "  Margarita  exclaimed;  "and  the  helm  not 
finished,  and  the  tapestry-pieces  not  sewed  and  joined,  and 
the  water  not  shaded  off.  —  Oh !  I  must  work  night  and 
day." 

"Child!  I'll  have  no  working  at  night!  Your  rosy 
cheeks  will  soon  be  sucked  out  by  oil-light,  and  you  look 
no  better  than  poor  tallow  Court  beauties  —  to  say  nothing 
of  the  danger.  This  old  house  saw  Charles  the  Great 
embracing  the  chief  magistrate  of  his  liege  city  yonder. 
Some  swear  he  slept  in  it.  He  did  not  sneeze  at  smaller 
chambers  than  our  Kaisers  abide.  No  gold  ceilings  with 
cornice  carvings,  but  plain  wooden  beams." 

"  Know  that  the  men  of  great  renowu 
Were  men  of  simple  needs : 
Bare  to  the  Lord  they  laid  them  down, 
And  slept  on  mighty  deeds.'' 

"  God  wot,  there  's  no  emptying  thy  store  of  ballads, 
Grete:  so  much  shall  be  said  of  thee.  Yes;  times  are 
changeing.  We  're  growing  degenerate.  Look  at  the  men 
of  Linz  now  to  what  they  were !  Would  they  have  let  the 
lads  of  Andernach  float  down  cabbage-stalks  to  them  with- 
out  a  shy  back  ?  And  why  ?  All  because  they  funk  that 
brigand-beast  Werner,  who  gets  redemption  from  Laach, 
hard  by  his  hold,  whenever  he  commits  a  crime  worth 
paying  for.  As  for  me,  my  timber  and  stuffs  must  come 
down  stream,  and  are  too  good  for  the  nixen_  under  Rhine, 
or  think  you  I  would  acknowledge  him  with  a  toll,  the 


172  FARINA 

hell-dog?  Thunder  and  lightning!  if  old  scores  could  be 
rubbed  out  on  his  hide!  " 

Gottlieb  whirled  a  thong-lashing  arm  in  air,  and  groaned 
of  law  and  justice.     What  were  they  coming  to! 

Margarita  softened  the  theme  with  a  verse : 

"  And  tho'  to  sting  his  enemy, 
Is  sweetness  to  the  angry  bee, 
The  angry  bee  must  busy  be, 
Ere  sweet  of  sweetness  hiveth  he." 

The  arch  thrill  of  his  daughter's  voice  tickled  Gottlieb. 
"That's  it,  birdie.  You  and  the  proverb  are  right.  I 
don't  know  which  is  best  — 

"  Better  hive 
And  keep  alive 
Than  vengeance  wake 
With  that  you  take." 

A  clatter  in  the  cathedral  square  brought  Gottlieb  on  his 
legs  to  the  window.  It  was  a  company  of  horsemen  spark- 
ling in  harness.  One  trumpeter  rode  at  the  side  of  the 
troop,  and  in  front  a  standard-bearer,  matted  down  the 
chest  with  ochre  beard,  displayed  aloft  to  the  good  citizens 
of  Cologne,  three  brown  hawks,  with  birds  in  their  beaks, 
on  an  azure  star-dotted  field. 

"  Holy  Cross !  "  exclaimed  Gottlieb,  low  in  his  throat ; 
"  the  arms  of  Werner !  Where  got  he  money  to  mount  his 
men  ?  Why,  this  is  daring  all  Cologne  in  our  very  teeth ! 
'Fend  that  he  visit  me  now !  Ruin  smokes  in  that  ruffian's 
track.     I  've  felt  hot  and  cold  by  turns  all  day." 

The  horsemen  came  jingling  carelessly  along  the  street 
in  scattered  twos  and  threes,  laughing  together,  and  sin- 
gling out  the  maidens  at  the  gable-shadowed  windows  with 
hawking  eyes.  The  good  citizens  of  Cologne  did  not  look 
on  them  favourably.  Some  showed  their  backs  and  gruffly 
banged  their  doors :  others  scowled  and  pocketed  their  fists : 
not  a  few  slunk  into  the  side  alleys  like  well-licked  curs, 
and  scurried  off  with  forebent  knees.  They  were  in  truth 
ferocious-looking  fellows  these  trusty  servants  of  the  rob- 
ber Baron  Werner,  of  Werner's  Eck,  behind  Andernach. 
Leather,  steel,  and  dust,  clad  them  from  head  to  foot;  big 
and  black  as  bears ;  wolf -eyed,  fox-nosed.     They  glistened 


THE   TAPESTRY    WORK  173 

bravely  in  the  falling  beams  of  the  sun,  and  Margarita 
thrust  her  fair  braided  yellow  head  a  little  forward  over  her 
father's  shoulder  to  catch  the  whole  length  of  the  grim 
cavalcade.  One  of  the  troop  was  not  long  in  discerning 
the  young  beauty.  He  pointed  her  boldly  out  to  a  com- 
rade, who  approved  his  appetite,  and  referred  her  to  a 
third.  The  rest  followed  lead,  and  Margarita  was  as  one 
spell-struck  when  she  became  aware  that  all  those  hungry 
eyes  were  preying  on  hers.  Old  Gottlieb  was  too  full  of 
his  own  fears  to  think  for  her,  and  when  he  drew  in  his 
head  rather  suddenly,  it  was  with  a  dismal  foreboding  that 
Werner's  destination  in  Cologne  was  direct  to  the  house  of 
Gottlieb  Groschen,  for  purposes  only  too  well  to  be  divined. 

"Devil's  breeches!"  muttered  Gottlieb;  "look  again, 
Grete,  and  see  if  that  hell-troop  stop  the  way  outside." 

Margarita's  cheeks  were  overflowing  with  the  offended 
rose. 

"I  will  not  look  at  them  again,  father." 

Gottlieb  stared,  and  then  patted  her. 

"I  would  I  were  a  man,  father! " 

Gottlieb  smiled,  and  stroked  his  beard. 

"Oh!  how  I  burn!" 

And  the  girl  shivered  visibly. 

"Grete!  mind  to  be  as  much  of  a  woman  as  you  can,  and 
soon  such  raff  as  this  you  may  sweep  away,  like  cobwebs, 
and  no  harm  done." 

He  was  startled  by  a  violent  thumping  at  the  street-door, 
and  as  brazen  a  blast  as  if  the  dead  were  being  summoned. 
Aunt  Lisbeth  entered,  and  flitted  duskily  round  the  room, 
crying : 

"We  are  lost:  they  are  upon  us!  better  death  with 
a  bodkin!  Never  shall  it  be  said  of  me;  never!  the 
monsters ! " 

Then  admonishing  them  to  lock,  bar,  bolt,  and  block  up 
every  room  in  the  house,  Aunt  Lisbeth  perched  herself 
on  the  edge  of  a  chair,  and  reversed  the  habits  of  the 
screech-owl,  by  being  silent  when  stationary. 

"  There 's  nothing  to  fear  for  you,  Lisbeth,"  said  Gottlieb, 
with  discourteous  emphasis. 

"  Gottlieb !  do  you  remember  what  happened  at  the  siege 
of  Mainz  ?  and  poor  Marthe  Herbstblum,  who  had  hoped  to 


174  FAKINA 

die  as  she  was;  and  Dame  Altknopfchen,  and  Frau 
Kaltblut,  and  the  old  baker,  Hans  Topf ' s  sister,  all  of  thern 
as  holy  as  abbesses,  and  that  did  not  save  them !  and  noth- 
ing will  from  such  godless  devourers." 

Gottlieb  was  gone,  having  often  before  heard  mention 
of  the  calamity  experienced  by  these  fated  women. 

"Comfort  thee,  good  heart,  on  my  breast,"  said  Marga- 
rita, taking  Lisbeth  to  that  sweet  nest  of  peace  and 
fortitude. 

"Margarita!  'tis  your  doing!  have  I  not  said  —  lure 
them  not,  for  they  swarm  too  early  upon  us!  And  here 
they  are!  and,  perhaps,  in  five  minutes  all  will  be  over! 
Herr  Je !  —  What,  you  are  laughing !  Heavens  of  good- 
ness, the  girl  is  delighted !  " 

Here  a  mocking  ha  —  ha!  accompanied  by  a  thundering 
smack  at  the  door,  shook  the  whole  house,  and  again  the 
trumpet  burst  the  ears  with  fury. 

This  summons,  which  seemed  to  Aunt  Lisbeth  final, 
wrought  a  strange  composure  in  her  countenance.  She 
was  very  pale,  but  spread  her  dress  decently,  as  if  fear 
had  departed,  and  clasped  her  hands  on  her  knees. 

"The  will  of  the  Lord  above  must  be  done,"  said  she; 
"  it  is  impious  to  complain  when  we  are  given  into  the 
hand  of  the  Philistines.  Others  have  been  martyred,  and 
were  yet  acceptable." 

To  this  heroic  speech  she  added,  with  cold  energy :  "  Let 
them  come ! " 

"Aunt,"  cried  Margarita,  "I  hear  my  father's  voice  with 
those  men.  Aunty !  I  will  not  let  him  be  alone.  I  must 
go  down  to  him.  You  will  be  safe  here.  I  shall  come  to 
you  if  there's  cause  for  alarm." 

And  in  spite  of  Aunt  Lisbeth's  astonished  shriek  of 
remonstrance,  she  hurried  off  to  rejoin  Gottlieb, 


THE   WAGER  175 


THE   WAGER 

Ere  Margarita  had  reached  the  landing  of  the  stairs,  she 
repented  her  haste  and  shrank  back.  Wrapt  in  a  thunder 
of  oaths,  she  distinguished:  "'Tis  the  little  maiden  we 
want;  let 's  salute  her  and  begone!  or  cap  your  skull  with 
something  thicker  than  you  've  on  it  now,  if  you  want  a 
whole  one,  happy  father !  " 

"Gottlieb  von  Groschen  I  am,"  answered  her  father, 
"and  the  Kaiser " 

"'S  as  fond  of  a  pretty  girl  as  we  are!  Down  with  her, 
and  no  more  drivelling!  It's  only  for  a  moment,  old 
Measure  and  Scales !  " 

"I  tell  you,  rascals,  I  know  your  master,  and  if  you  're 
not  punished  for  this,  may  I  die  a  beggar!  "  exclaimed  Gott- 
lieb, jumping  with  rage. 

"May  you  die  as  rich  as  an  abbot!  And  so  you  will,  if 
you  don't  bring  her  down,  for  I  've  sworn  to  see  her; 
there  's  the  end  of  it,  man !  " 

"I'll  see,  too,  if  the  laws  allow  this  villany!"  cried 
Gottlieb.  "  Insulting  a  peaceful  citizen !  in  his  own  house ! 
a  friend  of  your  emperor!  Gottlieb  von  Groschen!  " 

"Groschen?  We 're  cousins,  then!  You  would  n't  shut 
out  your  nearest  kin?  Devil's  lightning!  Don't  you 
know  me?  Pfennig?  Von  Pfennig!  This  here 's  Heller: 
that 's  Zwanziger :  all  of  us  Vons,  every  soul !  You  're  not 
decided  ?     This  '11  sharpen  you,  my  jolly  King  Paunch !  " 

And  Margarita  heard  the  ruffian  step  as  if  to  get  swing 
for  a  blow.  She  hurried  into  the  passage,  and  slipping  in 
front  of  her  father,  said  to  his  assailant: 

"  You  have  asked  for  me !     I  am  here ! " 

Her  face  was  colourless,  and  her  voice  seemed  to  issue 
from  between  a  tightened  cord.  She  stood  with  her 
left  foot  a  little  in  advance,  and  her  whole  body  heaving 
and  quivering :  her  arms  folded  and  pressed  hard  below  her 
bosom :  her  eyes  dilated  to  a  strong  blue :  her  mouth  ashy 
white.  A  strange  lustre,  as  of  suppressed  internal  fire, 
flickered  over  her. 


176  FARINA 

"  My  name  's  Schwartz  Thier,  and  so  's  my  nature ! " 
said  the  fellow  with  a  grin;  "but  may  I  never  smack  lips 
with  a  pretty  girl  again,  if  I  harm  such  a  young  beauty  as 
this!     Friendly  dealing  's  my  plan  o'  life." 

"Clear  out  of  my  house,  then,  fellow,  and  here  's  money 
for  you, "  said  Gottlieb,  displaying  a  wrathf ully -trembling 
handful  of  coin. 

"  Pish!  money  !  forty  times  that  would  n't  cover  my  bet! 
And  if  it  did?  Shouldn't  I  be  disgraced  ?  jeered  at  for  a 
sheep-heart?     No!    I'm  no  ninny,  and  not  to  be  diddled. 

I  '11  talk  to  the  young  lady! Silence,  out  there!  all 's 

going  proper : "  this  to  his  comrades  through  the  door. 
"So,  my  beautiful  maiden!  thus  it  stands:  We  saw  you 
at  the  window,  looking  like  a  fresh  rose  with  a  gold  crown 
on.  Here  are  we  poor  fellows  come  to  welcome  the 
Kaiser.  I  began  to  glorify  you.  '  Schwartz  Thier! '  says 
Henker  Rothhals  to  me,  '  I  '11  wager  you  odds  you  don't 
have  a  kiss  of  that  fine  girl  within  twenty  minutes,  count- 
ing from  the  hand-smack! '  Done!  was  my  word,  and  we 
clapped  our  fists  together.  Now,  you  see,  that 's  straight- 
forward! All  I  want  is,  not  to  lose  my  money  and  be 
made  a  fool  of  —  leaving  alone  that  sugary  mouth  which 
makes  mine  water;"  and  he  drew  the  back  of  his  hand 
along  his  stubbled  jaws:  "So  come!  don't  hesitate!  no 
harm  to  you,  my  beauty,  but  a  compliment,  and  Schwartz 
Thier 's  your  friend  and  anything  else  you  like  for  ever 
after.     Come,  time's  up,  pretty  well." 

Margarita  leaned  to  her  father  a  moment  as  if  mortal 
sickness  had  seized  her.  Then  cramping  her  hands  and 
feet,  she  said  in  his  ear,  "  Leave  me  to  my  own  care ;  go, 
get  the  men  to  protect  thee ;  "  and  ordered  Schwartz  Thier 
to  open  the  door  wide. 

Seeing  Gottlieb  would  not  leave  her,  she  joined  her  hands, 
and  begged  him.  "The  good  God  will  protect  me!  I  will 
overmatch  these  men.  Look,  my  father!  they  dare  not 
strike  me  in  the  street :  you  they  would  fell  without  pity. 
Go!  what  they  dare  in  a  house,  they  dare  not  in  the 
street." 

Schwartz  Thier  had  opened  the  door.  At  sight  of  Mar- 
garita, the  troop  gave  a  shout. 

"Now!  on  the  door-step,  full  in  view,  my  beauteous  one! 


THE  WAGER  177 

that  they  may  see  what  a  lucky  devil  I  am  —  and  have  no 
doubts  about  the  handing  over." 

Margarita  looked  behind.  Gottlieb  was  still  there, 
every  member  of  him  quaking  like  a  bog  under  a  heavy 
heel.  She  ran  to  him.  "  My  father!  I  have  a  device!  wilt 
thou  spoil  it,  and  give  me  to  this  beast?  You  can  do  noth- 
ing, nothing !  protect  yourself  and  save  me !  " 

"  Cologne !  broad  day ! "  muttered  Gottlieb,  as  if  the 
enormity  had  prostrated  his  belief  in  facts;  and  moved 
slowly  back. 

Margarita  strode  to  the  door-step.  Schwartz  Thier  was 
awaiting  her,  his  arm  circled  out,  and  his  leering  face 
ducked  to  a  level  with  his  victim's.  This  rough  show  of 
gallantry  proved  costly  to  him.  As  he  was  gently  closing 
his  iron  hold  about  her,  enjoying  beforehand  with  grim 
mouthridges  the  flatteries  of  triumph,  Margarita  shot  past 
him  through  the  door,  and  was  already  twenty  paces 
beyond  the  troop  before  either  of  them  thought  of  pursu- 
ing her.  At  the  first  sound  of  a  hoof,  Henker  Rothhals 
seized  the  rider's  bridle-rein,  and  roared:  "Fair  play  for  a 
fair  bet !  leave  all  to  the  Thier !  " 

The  Thier,  when  he  had  recovered  from  his  amazement, 
sought  for  old  Gottlieb  to  give  him  a  back-hit,  as  Margarita 
foresaw  that  he  would.  Not  finding  him  at  hand,  out  lum- 
bered the  fellow  as  swiftly  as  his  harness  would  allow, 
and  caught  a  glimpse  of  Margarita  rapidly  fleeting  up  the 
cathedral  square. 

"Only  five  minutes,  Schwartz  Thier!  "  some  of  the  troop 
sung  out. 

"The  devil  can  do  his  business  in  one,"  was  the  retort, 
and  Schwartz  Thier  swung  himself  on  his  broad-backed 
charger,  and  gored  the  fine  beast  till  she  rattled  out  a  blast 
of  sparkles  from  the  flint. 

In  a  minute  he  drew  up  in  front  of  Margarita. 

"So!  you  prefer  settling  this  business  in  the  square. 
Good !  my  choice  sweetheart ! "  and  he  sprang  to  her 
side. 

The  act  of  flight  had  touched  the  young  girl's  heart  with 
the  spirit  of  flight.  She  crouched  like  a  winded  hare  under 
the  nose  of  the  hound,  and  covered  her  face  with  her  two 
hands.     Margarita  was  no  wisp  in  weight,  but  Schwartz 


178  FARINA 

Thier  had  her  aloft  in  his  arm  as  easily  as  if  he  had  tossed 
up  a  kerchief. 

"  Look  all,  and  witness ! "  he  shouted,  lifting  the  other 
arm. 

Henker  Rothhals  and  the  rest  of  the  troop  looked,  as 
they  came  trotting  to  the  scene,  with  the  coolness  of 
umpires:  but  they  witnessed  something  other  than  what 
Schwartz  Thier  proposed.  This  was  the  sight  of  a  formid- 
able staff,  whirling  an  unfriendly  halo  over  the  head  of  the 
Thier,  and  descending  on  it  with  such  honest  intent  to 
confound  and  overthrow  him,  that  the  Thier  succumbed  to 
its  force  without  argument,  and  the  square  echoed  blow 
and  fall  simultaneously.  At  the  same  time  the  wielder  of 
this  sound  piece  of  logic  seized  Margarita,  and  raised  a 
shout  in  the  square  for  all  true  men  to  stand  by  him  in 
rescuing  a  maiden  from  the  clutch  of  brigands  and  rav- 
ishers.  A  crowd  was  collecting,  but  seemed  to  consider 
the  circle  now  formed  by  the  horsemen  as  in  a  manner 
charmed,  for  only  one,  a  fair  slender  youth,  came  forward, 
and  ranged  himself  beside  the  stranger. 

"Take  thou  the  maiden:  I'll  keep  to  the  staff,"  said 
this  latter,  stumbling  over  his  speech  as  if  he  was  in  a 
foreign  land  among  old  roots  and  wolf  pits  which  had 
already  shaken  out  a  few  of  his  teeth,  and  made  him 
cautious  about  the  remainder. 

"Can  it  be  Margarita!  "  exclaimed  the  youth,  bending  to 
her,  and  calling  to  her :  "Margarita!   Fraulein  Groschen!  " 

She  opened  her  eyes,  shuddered,  and  said:  "I  was  not 
afraid!     Am  I  safe?" 

"Safe  while  I  have  life,  and  this  good  friend." 

"  Where  is  my  father  ?  " 

"I  have  not  seen  him." 

"  And  you  —  who  are  you  ?     Do  I  owe  this  to  you  ?  " 

"Oh!  no!  no!     Me  you  owe  nothing." 

Margarita  gazed  hurriedly  round,  and  at  her  feet  there 
lay  the  Thier  with  his  steel-cap  shining  in  dints,  and  three 
rivulets  of  blood  coursing  down  his  mottled  forehead.  She 
looked  again  at  the  youth,  and  a  blush  of  recognition  gave 
life  to  her  cheeks. 

"I  did  not  know  you.  Pardon  me.  Farina!  what 
thanks  can  reward  such  courage '     Tell  me !  shall  we  go  ?  " 


THE   WAGER  179 

The  youth  eyed  her  an  instant,  but  recovering  himself, 
took,  a  rapid  survey,  and  called  to  the  stranger  to  follow 
and  help  give  the  young  maiden  safe  conduct  home. 

Just  then  Henker  Rothhals  bellowed,  "Time's  up!" 
He  was  answered  by  a  chorus  of  agreement  from  the  troop. 
They  had  hitherto  patiently  acted  their  parts  as  spectators, 
immovable  on  their  horses.  The  assault  on  the  Thier  was 
all  in  the  play,  and  a  visible  interference  of  fortune  in 
favour  of  Henker  Rothhals.  Now  general  commotion 
shuttled  them,  and  the  stranger's  keen  hazel  eyes  read  their 
intentions  rightly  when  he  lifted  his  redoubtable  staff  in 
preparation  for  another  mighty  swoop,  this  time  defensive. 
Rothhals,  and  half-a-dozen  others,  with  a  war-cry  of  curses, 
spurred  their  steeds  at  once  to  ride  him  down.  They  had 
not  reckoned  the  length  and  good-will  of  their  antagonist's 
weapon.  Scarce  were  they  in  motion,  when  round  it 
whizzed,  grazing  the  nostrils  of  their  horses  with  a  precision 
that  argued  practice  in  the  feat,  and  unhorsing  two,  Roth- 
hals among  the  number.  He  dropped  heavily  on  his  head, 
and  showed  signs  of  being  as  incapable  of  combat  as  the 
Thier.  A  cheer  burst  from  the  crowd,  but  fell  short.  The 
foremost  of  their  number  was  struck  flat  to  the  earth  by  a 
fellow  of  the  troop. 

Calling  on  St.  George,  his  patron  saint,  the  stranger 
began  systematically  to  make  a  clear  ring  in  his  path  for- 
ward. Several  of  the  horsemen  essayed  a  cut  at  his  arm 
with  their  long  double-handed  swords,  but  the  horses  could 
not  be  brought  a  second  time  to  the  edge  of  the  magic 
circle;  and  the  blood  of  these  warriors  being  thoroughly 
up,  they  now  came  at  him  on  foot.  In  their  rage  they 
would  have  made  short  work  with  the  three,  in  spite  of 
the  magistracy  of  Cologne,  had  they  not  been  arrested  by 
cries  of  "  Werner !  Werner !  " 

At  the  South-west  end  of  the  square,  looking  Rhine- 
wards,  rode  the  marauder  Baron,  in  full  armour,  helm  and 
hauberk,  with  a  single  retainer  in  his  rear.  He  had 
apparently  caught  sight  of  the  brawl,  and,  either  because 
he  distinguished  his  own  men,  or  was  seeking  his  nata^l 
element,  hastened  up  for  his  share  in  it,  which  was  usually 
that  of  the  king  of  beasts.  His  first  call  was  for  Schwartz 
Thier.     The  men  made  way,  and  he  beheld  his  man  in  no 


180  FAKINA 

condition  to  make  military  responses.  He  shouted  for 
Henker  Rothhals,  and  again  the  men  opened  their  ranks 
mutely,  exhibiting  the  two  stretched  out  in  diverse  direc- 
tions, with  their  feet  slanting  to  a  common  point.  The 
Baron  glared ;  then  caught  off  his  mailed  glove,  and  thrust 
it  between  his  teeth.  A  rasping  gurgle  of  oaths  was  all 
they  heard,  and  presently  surged  up,  — 

"  Who  was  it  ?  " 

Margarita's  eyes  were  shut.  She  opened  them  fasci- 
nated with  horror.  There  was  an  unearthly  awful  and  comic 
mixture  of  sounds  in  Werner's  querulous  fury,  that  was 
like  the  noise  of  a  complaining  bear,  rolling  up  from 
hollow-chested  menace  to  yawning  lament.  Never  in  her 
life  had  Margarita  such  a  shock  of  fear.  The  half  gasp  of 
a  laugh  broke  on  her  trembling  lips.  She  stared  at  Wer- 
ner, and  was  falling;  but  Farina's  arm  clung  instantly 
round  her  waist.  The  stranger  caught  up  her  laugh,  loud 
and  hearty. 

"As  for  who  did  it,  Sir  Baron,"  he  cried,  in  a  cheery 
tone,  "  I  am  the  man !  As  you  may  like  to  know  why  — 
and  that 's  due  to  you  and  me  both  of  us  —  all  I  can  say  is, 
the  Black  Muzzle  yonder  lying  got  his  settler  for  merry- 
making with  this  peaceful  maiden  here,  without  her  con- 
sent —  an  offence  in  my  green  island  they  reckon  a  crack 
o'  the  sconce  light  basting  for,  I  warrant  all  company 
present,"  and  he  nodded  sharply  about.  "As  for  the  other 
there,  who  looks  as  if  a  rope  had  been  round  his  neck  once 
and  shirked  its  duty,  he  counts  his  wages  for  helping  the 
devil  in  his  business,  as  will  any  other  lad  here  who  likes 
to  come  on  and  try." 

Werner  himself,  probably,  would  have  given  him  the 
work  he  wanted;  but  his  eye  had  sidled  a  moment  over 
Margarita,  and  the  hardly -suppressed  applause  of  the  crowd 
at  the  stranger's  speech  failed  to  bring  his  ire  into  action 
this  solitary  time. 

"  Who  is  the  maiden  ?  "  he  asked  aloud. 

"Fraulein  von  Groschen,"  replied  Farina. 

"Von  Groschen!  Von  Groschen!  the  daughter  of  Gottlieb 
Groschen?  —  Rascals!"  roared  the  Baron,  turning  on  his 
men,  and  out  poured  a  mud-spring  of  filthy  oaths  and 
threats,  which  caused  Henker  Rothhals,  who  had  opened 


THE  WAGER  181 

his  eyes,  to  close  them  again,  as  if  he  had  already  gone  to 
the  place  of  heat. 

"Only  lend  me  thy  staff,  friend,"  cried  Werner. 

"Not  I!  thwack  'em  with  your  own  wood,"  replied  the 
stranger,  and  fell  back  a  leg. 

Werner  knotted  his  stringy  brows,  and  seemed  torn  to 
pieces  with  the  different  pulling  tides  of  his  wrath  He 
grasped  the  mane  of  his  horse  and  flung  abroad  handfuls, 
till  the  splendid  animal  reared  in  agony. 

"You  shall  none  of  you  live  over  this  night,  villains! 
I  '11  hang  you,  every  hag's  son !  My  last  orders  were,  — 
Keep  quiet  in  the  city,  ye  devil's  brood.  Take  that!  and 
that!"  laying  at  them  with  his  bare  sword.  "Off  with 
you,  and  carry  these  two  pigs  out  of  sight  quickly,  or  I  '11 
have  their  heads,  and  make  sure  o'  them." 

The  latter  injunction  sprang  from  policy,  for  at  the  head 
of  the  chief  street  there  was  a  glitter  of  the  city  guard, 
marching  with  shouldered  spears. 

"Maiden,"  said  Werner,  with  a  bull's  bow,  "let  me 
conduct  thee  to  thy  father." 

Margarita  did  not  reply;  but  gave  her  hand  to  Farina, 
and  took  a  step  closer  to  the  stranger. 

Werner's  brows  grew  black. 

"Enough  to  have  saved  you,  fair  maid,"  he  muttered, 
hoarsely.  "Gratitude  never  was  a  woman's  gift.  Say  to 
your  father  that  I  shall  make  excuses  to  him  for  the  con- 
duct of  my  men." 

Whereupon,  casting  a  look  of  leisurely  scorn  towards  the 
guard  coming  up  in  the  last  beams  of  day,  the  Baron 
shrugged  his  huge  shoulders  to  an  altitude  expressing  the 
various  contemptuous  shades  of  feudal  coxcombry,  stuck 
one  leather-ruffled  arm  in  his  side,  and  jolted  off  at  an  easy 
pace. 

"Amen!"  ejaculated  the  stranger,  leaning  on  his  staff. 
"There  are  Barons  in  my  old  land;  but  never  a  brute  beast 
in  harness." 

Margarita  stood  before  him,  and  took  his  two  hands. 

"  You  will  come  with  me  to  my  father !  He  will  thank 
you.     I  cannot.     You  will  come  ?  " 

Tears  and  a  sob  of  relief  started  from  her. 

The  city  guard,  on  seeing  Werner's  redoubtable   back 


182  FARINA 

turned,  had  adopted  double  time,  and  now  came  panting 
up,  while  the  stranger  bent  smiling  under  a  fresh  overflow 
of  innocent  caresses.  Margarita  was  caught  to  her  father's 
breast. 

"You  shall  have  vengeance  for  this,  sweet  chuck,"  cried 
old  Gottlieb  in  the  intervals  of  his  hugs. 

"  Fear  not,  my  father;  they  are  punished:"  and  Margarita 
related  the  story  of  the  stranger's  prowess,  elevating  him 
into  a  second  Siegfried.  The  guard  huzzaed  him,  but  did 
not  pursue  the  Baron. 

Old  Gottlieb,  without  hesitation,  saluted  the  astonished 
champion  with  a  kiss  on  either  cheek. 

"My  best  friend!  You  have  saved  my  daughter  from 
indignity !  Come  with  us  home,  if  you  can  believe  that  a 
home  where  the  wolves  come  daring  us,  dragging  our  dear 
ones  from  our  very  doorsteps.  Come !  that  we  may  thank 
you  under  a  roof  at  least.  My  little  daughter!  Is  she 
not  a  brave  lass  ?  " 

"She's  nothing  less  than  the  white  rose  of  Germany," 
said  the  stranger,  with  a  good  bend  of  the  shoulders  to 
Margarita. 

"  So  she 's  called,"  exclaimed  Gottlieb;  "she  's  worthy  to 
be  a  man !  " 

"  Men  would  be  the  losers,  then,  more  than  they  could 
afford,"  replied  the  stranger,  with  a  ringing  laugh. 

"Come,  good  friend,"  said  Gottlieb;  "you  must  need 
refreshment.  Prove  you  are  a  true  hero  by  your  appetite. 
As  Charles  the  Great  said  to  Archbishop  Turpin,  '  I  con- 
quered the  world  because  Nature  gave  me  a  gizzard;  for 
everywhere  the  badge  of  subjection  is  a  poor  stomach.' 
Come,  all!     A  day  well  ended,  notwithstanding!" 


THE   SILVER   ARROW  183 


THE   SILVER  ARROW 

At  the  threshold  of  Gottlieb's  house  a  number  of  the 
chief  burgesses  of  Cologne  had  corporated  spontaneously 
to  condole  with  him.  As  he  came  near,  they  raised  a  hub- 
bub of  gratulation.  Strong  were  the  expressions  of  abhor- 
rence and  disgust  of  Werner's  troop  in  which  these 
excellent  citizens  clothed  their  outraged  feelings ;  for  the 
insult  to  Gottlieb  was  the  insult  of  all.  The  Rhine- 
stream  taxes  were  provoking  enough  to  endure;  but  that 
the  licence  of  these  free-booting  bands  should  extend  to  the 
homes  of  free  and  peaceful  men,  loyal  subjects  of  the 
Emperor,  was  a  sign  that  the  evil  had  reached  from  pricks 
to  pokes,  as  the  saying  went,  and  must  now  be  met  as 
became  burgesses  of  ancient  Cologne,  and  by  joint  action 
destroyed. 

"  In!  in,  all  of  you! "  said  Gottlieb,  broadening  his  smile 
to  suit  the  many.  "  We  '11  talk  about  that  in-doors.  Mean- 
time, I  've  got  a  hero  to  introduce  to  you :  flesh  and  blood ! 
no  old  woman's  coin  and  young  girl's  dream-o'-day:  the 
honest  thing,  and  a  rarity,  my  masters.  All  that  over 
some  good  Rhine-juice  from  above  Bacharach.  In,  and 
welcome,  friends ! " 

Gottlieb  drew  the  stranger  along  with  him  under  the 
carved  old  oak-wood  portals,  and  the  rest  paired,  and 
reverentially  entered  in  his  wake.  Margarita,  to  make  up 
for  this  want  of  courtesy,  formed  herself  the  last  of  the 
procession.  She  may  have  had  another  motive,  for  she 
took  occasion  there  to  whisper  something  to  Farina,  bring- 
ing sun  and  cloud  over  his  countenance  in  rapid  flushes. 
He  seemed  to  remonstrate  in  dumb  show;  but  she,  with 
an  attitude  of  silence,  signified  her  wish  to  seal  the  conver- 
sation, and  he  drooped  again.  On  the  doorstep  she  paused 
a  moment,  and  hung  her  head  pensively,  as  if  moved  by  a 
reminiscence.  The  youth  had  hurried  away  some  strides. 
Margarita  looked  after  him.  His  arms  were  straightened 
to  his  flanks,  his  hands  clenched,  and  straining  out  from 
the  wrist.     He  had  the  aspect  of  one  tugging  against  the 


184  FARINA 

restraint  of  a  chain  that  sullenly  let  out  link  by  link  to 
his  whole  force. 

"Farina!  "  she  called;  and  wound  him  back  with  a  run. 
"Farina!  You  do  not  think  me  ungrateful?  I  could  not 
tell  my  father  in  the  crowd  what  you  did  for  me.  He  shall 
know.  He  will  thank  you.  He  does  not  understand  you 
now,  Farina.  He  will.  Look  not  so  sorrowful.  So 
much  I  would  say  to  you." 

So  much  was  rushing  on  her  mind,  that  her  maidenly 
heart  became  unruly,  and  warned  her  to  beware. 

The  youth  stood  as  if  listening  to  a  nightingale  of  the 
old  woods,  after  the  first  sweet  stress  of  her  voice  was  in 
his  ear.  When  she  ceased,  he  gazed  into  her  eyes.  They 
were  no  longer  deep  and  calm  like  forest  lakes ;  the  tender- 
glowing  blue  quivered,  as  with  a  spark  of  the  young  girl's 
soul,  in  the  beams  of  the  moon  then  rising. 

"Oh,  Margarita!"  said  the  youth,  intones  that  sank  to 
sighs:  "what  am  I  to  win  your  thanks,  though  it  were  my 
life  for  such  a  boon !  " 

He  took  her  hand,  and  she  did  not  withdraw  it.  Twice 
his  lips  dwelt  upon  those  pure  fingers. 

" Margarita:  you  forgive  me  ?  I  have  been  so  long  with- 
out hope.  I  have  kissed  your  hand,  dearest  of  God's 
angel 


i » 


She  gently  restrained  the  full  white  hand  in  his  pres- 
sure. 

"  Margarita !  I  have  thought  never  before  death  to  have 
had  this  sacred  bliss.  I  am  guerdoned  in  advance  for 
every  grief  coming  before  death." 

She  dropped  on  him  one  look  of  a  confiding  softness 
that  was  to  the  youth  like  the  opened  gate  of  the  inno- 
cent garden  of  her  heart. 

"  You  pardon  me,  Margarita  ?  I  may  call  you  my  be- 
loved ?  strive,  wait,  pray,  hope,  for  you,  my  star  of  life  ?  " 

Her  face  was  so  sweet  a  charity ! 

"Dear  love!  one  word! — or  say  nothing,  but  remain, 
and  move  not.  So  beautiful  you  are !  Oh,  might  I  kneel 
to  you  here;  dote  on  you;  worship   this  white   hand   for 


ever." 


The  colour  had  passed  out  of  her  cheeks  like  a  blissful 
western  red  leaving  rich  paleness  in  the  sky;   and  with 


THE  SILVER  ARROW  185 

her  clear  brows  levelled  at  him,  her  bosom  lifting  more  and 
more  rapidly,  she  struggled  against  the  charm  that  was  on 
her,  and  at  last  released  her  hand. 

"I  must  go.  I  cannot  stay.  Pardon  you  ?  Who  might 
not  be  proud  of  your  love !  —  Farewell !  " 

She  turned  to  move  away,  but  lingered  a  step  from  him, 
hastily  touching  her  bosom  and  either  hand,  as  if  to  feel 
for  a  brooch  or  a  ring.  Then  she  blushed,  drew  the  silver 
arrow  from  the  gathered  gold-shot  braids  above  her  neck, 
held  it  out  to  him,  and  was  gone. 

Farina  clutched  the  treasure,  and  reeled  into  the  street. 
Half-a-dozen  neighbours  were  grouped  by  the  door. 

"  What 's  the  matter  in  Master  Groschen's  house  now  ?  " 
one  asked,  as  he  plunged  into  the  midst  of  them. 

"  Matter  ?"  quoth  the  joy-drunken  youth,  catching  at  the 
word,  and  mused  off  into  raptures ;  "  there  never  was  such 
happiness!  'Tis  paradise  within,  exile  without.  But 
what  exile !  A  star  ever  in  the  heavens  to  lighten  the  road 
and  cheer  the  path  of  the  banished  one; "  and  he  loosened 
his  vest  and  hugged  the  cold  shaft  on  his  breast. 

"What  are  you  talking  and  capering  at,  fellow?"  ex- 
claimed another.  "Can't  you  answer  about  those  shrieks, 
like  a  Christian,  you  that  have  just  come  out  of  the 
house  ?  Why,  there  's  shrieking  now !  It's  a  woman. 
Thousand  thunders!  it  sounds  like  the  Frau  Lisbeth's 
voice.     What  can  be  happening  to  her?" 

"  Perhaps  she 's  on  fire,"  was  coolly  suggested  between 
two  or  three. 

"  Pity  to  see  the  old  house  burnt,"  remarked  one. 

"  House !     The  woman,  man  !  the  woman ! " 

"  Ah ! "  replied  the  other,  an  ancient  inhabitant  of  Co- 
logne, shaking  his  head,  "  the  house  is  oldest !  " 

Farina,  now  recovering  his  senses,  heard  shrieks  that  he 
recognized  as  possible  in  the  case  of  Aunt  Lisbeth  dreading 
the  wickedness  of  an  opposing  sex,  and  alarmed  by  the 
inrush  of  old  Gottlieb's  numerous  guests.  To  confirm  him, 
she  soon  appeared,  and  hung  herself  halfway  out  of  one  of 
the  upper  windows,  calling  desperately  to  St.  Ursula  for 
aid.  He  thanked  the  old  lady  in  his  heart  for  giving  him  a 
pretext  to  enter  Paradise  again ;  but  before  even  love  could 
speed  him,  Frau  Lisbeth  was  seized  and  dragged  remorse* 


186  FARINA 

lessly  out  of  sight,  and  he  and  the  rosy  room  darkened 
together. 

Farina  twice  strode  off  to  the  Khine-stream ;  as  many 
times  he  returned.  It  was  hard  to  be  away  from  her.  It 
was  harder  to  be  near  and  not  close.  His  heart  flamed 
into  jealousy  of  the  stranger.  Everything  threatened  to 
overturn  his  slight  but  lofty  structure  of  bliss  so  suddenly 
shot  into  the  heavens.  He  had  but  to  remember  that  his 
hand  was  on  the  silver  arrow,  and  a  radiance  broke  upon 
his  countenance,  and  a  calm  fell  upon  his  breast.  "It 
was  a  plight  of  her  troth  to  me,"  mused  the  youth.  "  She 
loves  me !  She  would  not  trust  her  frank  heart  to  speak. 
Oh,  generous  young  girl!  what  am  I  to  dare  hope  for  such 
a  prize  ?  for  I  never  can  be  worthy.  And  she  is  one  who, 
giving  her  heart,  gives  it  all.  Do  I  not  know  her  ?  How 
lovely  she  looked  thanking  the  stranger !  The  blue  of  her 
eyes,  the  warm-lighted  blue,  seemed  to  grow  full  on  the 
closing  lids,  like  heaven's  gratitude.  Her  beauty  is  won- 
derful. What  wonder,  then,  if  he  loves  her  ?  I  should 
think  him  a  squire  in  his  degree.  There  are  squires  of 
high  birth  and  low." 

So  mused  Farina  with  his  arms  folded  and  his  legs  crossed 
in  the  shadow  of  Margarita's  chamber.  Gradually  he  fell 
into  a  kind  of  hazy  doze.  The  houses  became  branded  with 
silver  arrows.  All  up  the  Cathedral  stone  was  a  glitter,  and 
dance,  and  quiver  of  them.  In  the  sky  mazed  confusion  of 
arrowy  flights  and  falls.  Farina  beheld  himself  in  the  ser- 
vice of  the  Emperor  watching  these  signs,  and  expecting 
on  the  morrow  to  win  glory  and  a  name  for  Margarita. 
Glory  and  the  name  now  won,  old  Gottlieb  was  just  on  the 
point  of  paternally  blessing  them,  when  a  rude  pat  aroused 
him  from  the  delicious  moon-dream. 

"  Hero  by  day !  house-guard  by  night !  That  tells  a 
tale,"  said  a  cheerful  voice. 

The  moon  was  shining  down  the  Cathedral  square  and 
street,  and  Farina  saw  the  stranger  standing  solid  and  ruddy 
before  him.  He  was  at  first  prompted  to  resent  such  familiar 
handling,  but  the  stranger's  face  was  of  that  bland  honest 
nature  which,  like  the  sun,  wins  everywhere  back  a  reflec- 
tion of  its  own  kindliness. 

"  You  are  right,"  replied  Farina ;  "  so  it  is ! " 


THE   SILVER   ARROW  187 

"Pretty  wines  inside  there,  and  a  rare  young  maiden. 
She  has  a  throat  like  a  nightingale,  and  more  ballads  at 
command  than  a  piper's  wallet.  Now,  if  I  had  n't  a  wife 
at  home " 

"You're  married?"  cried  Farina,  seizing  the  stranger's 
hand. 

"  Surely ;  and  my  lass  can  say  something  for  herself  on 
the  score  of  brave  looks,  as  well  as  the  best  of  your  Ger- 
main maids  here,  trust  me." 

Farina  repressed  an  inclination  to  perform  a  few  of  those 
antics  which  violent  joy  excites,  and  after  rushing  away 
and  back,  determined  to  give  his  secret  to  the  stranger. 

"Look,"  said  he  in  a  whisper,  that  opens  the  private 
doors  of  a  confidence. 

But  the  stranger  repeated  the  same  word  still  more 
earnestly,  and  brought  Farina's  eyes  on  a  couple  of  dark 
figures  moving  under  the  Cathedral. 

"Some  lamb's  at  stake  when  the  wolves  are  prowling," 
he  added :  "  't  is  now  two  hours  to  the  midnight.  I  doubt 
if  our  day's  work  be  over  till  we  hear  the  chime,  friend." 

"  What  interest  do  you  take  in  the  people  of  this  house 
that  you  watch  over  them  thus  ?  "  asked  Farina. 

The  stranger  muffled  a  laugh  in  his  beard. 

"  An  odd  question,  good  sooth.  Why,  in  the  first  place, 
we  like  well  whatso  we  have  done  good  work  for.  That 
goes  for  something.  In  the  second,  I  've  broken  bread  in 
this  house.  Put  down  that  in  the  reckoning.  In  the  third ; 
well !  in  the  third,  add  up  all  together,  and  the  sum  total 's 
at  your  service,  young  sir." 

Farina  marked  him  closely.  There  was  not  a  spot  on 
his  face  for  guile  to  lurk  in,  or  suspicion  to  fasten  on.  He 
caught  the  stranger's  hand. 

"  You  called  me  friend  just  now.  Make  me  your  friend. 
Look,  I  was  going  to  say  :  I  love  this  maiden  !  I  would  die 
for  her.  I  have  loved  her  long.  This  night  she  has  given 
me  a  witness  that  my  love  is  not  vain.  I  am  poor.  She  is 
rich.  I  am  poor,  I  said,  and  feel  richer  than  the  Kaiser 
with  this  she  has  given  me  !  Look,  it  is  what  our  German 
girls  slide  in  their  back-hair,  this  silver  arrow  ! " 

"A  very  pretty  piece  of  heathenish  wear!"  exclaimed 
the  stranger. 


188  FARINA 

"  Then,  I  was  going  to  say  —  tell  me,  friend,  of  a  way  to 
win  honour  and  wealth  quickly ;  I  care  not  at  how  rare  a 
risk.  Only  to  wealth,  or  high  baronry,  will  her  father  give 
her ! " 

The  stranger  buzzed  on  his  moustache  in  a  pause  of  cool 
pity,  such  as  elders  assume  when  young  men  talk  of  con- 
quering the  world  for  their  mistresses :  and  in  truth  it  is  a 
calm  of  mind  well  won  ! 

"  Things  look  so  brisk  at  home  here  in  the  matter  of  the 
maiden,  that  I  should  say,  wait  a  while  and  watch  your 
chance.  But  you  're  a  boy  of  pluck :  I  serve  in  the  Kaiser's 
army,  under  my  lord :  the  Kaiser  will  be  here  in  three  days. 
If  you're  of  that  mind  then,  I  doubt  little  you  may  get 
posted  well :  but,  look  again !  there 's  a  ripe  brew  yonder. 
Marry,  you  may  win  your  spurs  this  night  even;  who 
knows?  —  'Slife!  there's  a  tall  fellow  joining  those  two 
lurkers." 

"Can  you  see  into  the  murk  shadow,  Sir  Squire  ?" 

"  Ay !  thanks  to  your  Styrian  dungeons,  where  I  passed 
a  year's  apprenticeship: 

'I  learnt  to  watch  the  rats  and  mice 
At  play,  with  never  a  candle-end. 
They  play'd  so  well ;  they  sang  so  nice ; 

They  dubh'd  me  comrade ;  called  me  friend ! ' 

So  says  the  ballad  of  our  red-beard  king's  captivity.  All 
evil  has  a  good : 

'  When  our  toes  and  chins  are  up, 
Poison  plants  make  sweetest  cnp :  * 

as  the  old  wives  mumble  to  us  when  we  're  sick.  Heigho ! 
would  I  were  in  the  little  island  well  home  again,  though 
that  were  just  their  song  of  welcome  to  me,  as  I  am  a 
Christian." 

"  Tell  me  your  name,  friend,"  said  Farina. 

"  Guy 's  my  name,  young  man :  Goshawk 's  my  title.  Guy 
the  Goshawk !  so  they  called  me  in  my  merry  land.  The 
cap  sticks  when  it  no  longer  fits.  Then  I  drove  the  arrow, 
and  was  down  on  my  enemy  ere  he  could  ruffle  a  feather. 
Uow,  what  would  be  my  nickname  ? 


TIIE  SILVER   ARROW  189 

'  A  change  so  sad,  and  a  change  so  had, 

Might  set  both  Christian  and  heathen  a-sighing: 
Change  is  a  curse,  for  it 's  all  for  the  worse : 
Age  creeps  up,  and  youth  is  flying ! ' 

and  so  on,  with  the  old  song.  But  here  am  I,  and  yonder  'a 
a  game  that  wants  harrying ;  so  we  '11  just  begin  to  nose 
about  them  a  bit." 

He  crossed  to  the  other  side  of  the  street,  and  Farina 
followed  out  of  the  moonlight.  The  two  figures  and  the 
taller  one  were  evidently  observing  them;  for  they  also 
changed  their  position  and  passed  behind  an  angle  of  the 
Cathedral. 

"  Tell  me  how  the  streets  cross  all  round  the  Cathedral ; 
you  know  the  city,"  said  the  stranger,  holding  out  his 
hand. 

Farina  traced  with  his  finger  a  rough  map  of  the  streets 
on  the  stranger's  hand. 

"Good!  that's  how  my  lord  always  marks  the  battle 
field,  and  makes  me  show  him  the  enemy's  posts.  For- 
ward, this  way  ! " 

He  turned  from  the  Cathedral,  and  both  slid  along  close 
under  the  eaves  and  front  hangings  of  the  houses.  Neither 
spoke.  Farina  felt  that  he  was  in  the  hands  of  a  skilful 
captain,  and  only  regretted  the  want  of  a  weapon  to  make 
harvest  of  the  intended  surprise ;  for  he  judged  clearly  that 
those  were  fellows  of  Werner's  band  on  the  look-out.  They 
wound  down  numberless  intersections  of  narrow  streets  with 
irregular-built  houses  standing  or  leaning  wry-faced  in  row, 
here  a  quaint-beamed  cottage,  there  almost  a  mansion  with 
gilt  arms,  brackets,  and  devices.  Oil-lamps  unlit  hung  at 
intervals  by  the  corners,  near  a  pale  Christ  on  crucifix. 
Across  the  passages  they  hung  alight.  The  passages  and 
alleys  were  too  dusky  and  close  for  the  moon  in  her  bright- 
est ardour  to  penetrate ;  down  the  streets  a  slender  lane  of 
white  beams  could  steal:  "In  all  conscience,"  as  the  good 
citizens  of  Cologne  declared,  "  enough  for  those  heathen 
hounds  and  sons  of  the  sinful  who  are  abroad  when  God's 
own  blessed  lamp  is  out."  So,  when  there  was  a  moon,  the 
expense  of  oil  was  saved  to  the  Cologne  treasury,  thereby 
satisfying  the  virtuous. 

After  incessant  doubling  here   and   there,  listening  to 


190  FARINA 

footfalls,  and  themselves  eluding  a  chase  which  their  sus- 
picious movements  aroused,  they  came  upon  the  Ehine.  A 
full  flood  of  moonlight  burnished  the  knightly  river  in 
glittering  scales,  and  plates,  and  rings,  as  headlong  it  rolled 
seaward  on  from  under  crag  and  banner  of  old  chivalry  and 
rapine.  Both  greeted  the  scene  with  a  burst  of  pleasure. 
The  gray  mist  of  flats  on  the  south  side  glimmered  delight- 
ful to  their  sight,  coming  from  that  drowsy  crowd  and  press 
of  habitations ;  but  the  solemn  glory  of  the  river,  delaying 
not,  heedless,  impassioned  —  pouring  on  in  some  sublime 
conference  between  it  and  heaven  to  the  great  marriage  of 
waters,  deeply  shook  Farina's  enamoured  heart.  The  youth 
could  not  restrain  his  tears,  as  if  a  magic  wand  had  touched 
him.  He  trembled  with  love ;  and  that  delicate  bliss  which 
maiden  hope  first  showers  upon  us  like  a  silver  rain  when 
she  has  taken  the  shape  of  some  young  beauty  and  plighted 
us  her  fair  fleeting  hand,  tenderly  embraced  him. 

As  they  were  emerging  into  the  spaces  of  the  moon,  a 
cheer  from  the  stranger  arrested  Farina. 

"Seest  thou?  on  the  wharf  there!  that  is  the  very  one, 
the  tallest  of  the  three.     Lakin  !  but  we  shall  have  him." 

Wrapt  in  a  long  cloak,  with  low  pointed  cap  and  feather, 
stood  the  person  indicated.  He  appeared  to  be  meditating 
on  the  flow  of  the  water,  unaware  of  hostile  presences,  or 
quite  regardless  of  them.  There  was  a  majesty  in  his 
height  and  air,  which  made  the  advance  of  the  two  upon 
him  more  wary  and  respectful  than  their  first  impulse 
had  counselled.  They  could  not  read  his  features,  which 
were  mantled  behind  voluminous  folds :  all  save  a  pair  of 
very  strange  eyes,  that,  even  as  they  gazed  directly  down- 
ward, seemed  charged  with  restless  fiery  liquid. 

The  two  were  close  behind  him :  Guy  the  Goshawk  pre- 
pared for  one  of  those  fatal  pounces  on  the  foe  that  had 
won  him  his  title.  He  consulted  Farina  mutely,  who 
nodded  readiness ;  but  the  instant  after,  a  cry  of  anguish 
escaped  from  the  youth :  — 

"  Lost !  gone !  lost !  Where  is  it  ?  where  !  the  arrow ! 
The  Silver  Arrow  !     My  Margarita !  " 

Ere  the  echoes  of  his  voice  had  ceased  lamenting  into 
the  distance,  they  found  themselves  alone  on  the  wharf. 


THE   LILIES   OP  THE   VALLEY  191 


THE  LILIES   OF  THE  VALLEY 

" He  opened  like  a  bat! "  said  the  stranger. 

"His  shadow  was  red  ! "  said  Farina. 

"  He  was  off  like  an  arrow !  "  said  the  stranger. 

"  Oh !  pledge  of  my  young  love,  how  could  I  lose  thee  !  " 
exclaimed  the  youth,  and  his  eyes  were  misted  with  tears. 

Guy  the  Goshawk  shook  his  brown  locks  gravely. 

"  Bring  me  a  man,  and  I  '11  stand  up  against  him,  who- 
ever he  be,  like  a  man  ;  but  this  fellow  has  an  ill  scent  and 
foreign  ways  about  him,  that  he  has  !  His  eye  boils  all 
down  my  backbone  and  tingles  at  my  finger-tips.  JesUj 
save  us  ! " 

"  Save  us !  "  repeated  Farina,  with  the  echo  of  a  deadened 
soul. 

They  made  the  sign  of  the  Cross,  and  purified  the  place 
with  holy  ejaculations. 

"  I  've  seen  him  at  last ;  grant  it  be  for  the  last  time ! 
That 's  my  prayer,  in  the  name  of  the  Virgin  and  Trinity," 
said  Guy.  "And  now  let's  retrace  our  steps:  perchance 
we  shall  hunt  up  that  bauble  of  yours,  but  I'm  not  fit 
for  mortal  work  this  night  longer." 

Burdened  by  their  black  encounter,  the  two  passed  again 
behind  the  Cathedral.  Farina's  hungry  glances  devoured 
each  footmark  of  their  track.  Where  the  moon  held  no 
lantern  for  him,  he  went  on  his  knees,  and  groped  for  his 
lost  treasure  with  a  miser's  eager  patience  of  agony,  draw- 
ing his  hand  slowly  over  the  stony  kerb  and  between  the 
interstices  of  the  thick-sown  flints,  like  an  acute-feeling 
worm.  Despair  grew  heavy  in  his  breast.  At  every  turn- 
ing he  invoked  some  good  new  saint  to  aid  him,  and  ran 
over  all  the  propitiations  his  fancy  could  suggest  and  his 
religious  lore  inspire.  By-and-by  they  reached  the  head  of 
the  street  where  Margarita  dwelt.  The  moon  was  dipping 
down,  and  paler,  as  if  touched  with  a  warning  of  dawn. 
Chill  sighs  from  the  open  land  passed  through  the  spaces 
of  the  city.  On  certain  coloured  gables  and  wood-crossed 
fronts,  the  white  light  lingered;  but  mostly  the   houses 


192  FARINA 

were  veiled  in  dusk,  and  Gottlieb's  house  was  confused  in 
the  twilight  with  those  of  his  neighbours,  notwithstanding 
its  greater  stateliness  and  the  old  grandeur  of  its  timbered 
bulk.  They  determined  to  take  up  their  position  there 
again,  and  paced  on,  Farina  with  his  head  below  his  shoul- 
ders, and  Guy  nostril  in  air,  as  if  uneasy  in  his  sense  of 
smell. 

On  the  window-ledge  of  a  fair-fitted  domicile  stood  a 
flower-pot,  a  rude  earthen  construction  in  the  form  of  a 
river-barge,  wherein  grew  some  valley  lilies  that  drooped 
their  white  bells  over  the  sides. 

The  Goshawk  eyed  them  wistfully. 

"I  must  smell  those  blessed  flowers  if  I  wish  to  be 
saved !  "  and  he  stamped  resolve  with  his  staff. 

Moved  by  this  exclamation,  Farina  gazed  up  at  them. 

"How  like  a  company  of  maidens  they  look  floating  in 
the  vessel  of  life  !  "  he  said. 

Guy  curiously  inspected  Farina  and  the  flower-pot, 
shrugged,  and,  with  his  comrade's  aid,  mounted  to  a  level 
with  it,  seized,  the  prize  and  redescended. 

"  There,"  he  cried,  between  long  luxurious  sniffs,  "  that 
chases  him  out  of  the  nostril  sooner  than  aught  else,  the 
breath  of  a  fresh  lass-like  flower !  I  was  tormented  till 
now  by  the  reek  of  the  damned  rising  from  under  me. 
This  is  heaven's  own  incense,  I  think ! " 

And  Guy  inhaled  the  flowers  and  spake  prettily  to  them. 

"They  have  a  melancholy  sweetness,  friend,"  said  Farina. 
"  I  think  of  whispering  Fays,  and  Elf,  and  Erl,  when  their 
odour  steals  through  me.     Do  not  you  ?  " 

"  Nay,  nor  hope  to  till  my  wits  are  clean  gone,"  was  the 
Goshawk's  reply.  "  To  my  mind,  't  is  an  honest  flower,  and 
could  I  do  good  service  by  the  young  maiden  who  there  set 
it,  I  should  be  rendering  back  good  service  done;  for  if 
that  flower  has  not  battled  the  devil  in  my  nose  this  night, 
and  beaten  him,  my  head  's  a  medlar!  " 

"  I  scarce  know  whether  as  a  devout  Christian  I  should 
listen  to  that,  friend,"  Farina  mildly  remonstrated.  "  Lilies 
are  indeed  emblems  of  the  saints ;  but  then  they  are  not 
poor  flowers  of  earth,  being  transfigured,  lustrous  unfad- 
ingly.  Oh,  Cross  and  Passion !  with  what  silver  serenity 
thy  glory  enwraps  me,  gazing  on  these  fair  bells  !  I  look 


THE   LILIES   OF  THE  VALLEY  193 

on  the  white  sea  of  the  saints.  I  am  enamoured  of  fleshly 
anguish  and  martyrdom.  All  beauty  is  that  worn  by  wan- 
smiling  faces  wherein  Hope  sits  as  a  crown  on  Sorrow,  and 
the  pale  ebb  of  mortal  life  is  the  twilight  of  joy  everlasting. 
Colourless  peace !  Oh,  my  beloved !  So  walkest  thou  for 
my  soul  on  the  white  sea  ever  at  night,  clad  in  the  straight 
fall  of  thy  spotless  virgin  linen ;  bearing  in  thy  hand  the 
lily,  and  leaning  thy  cheek  to  it,  where  the  human  rose  is 
softened  to  a  milky  bloom  of  red,  the  espousals  of  heaven 
with  earth;  over  thee,  moving  with  thee,  a  wreath  of 
sapphire  stars,  and  the  solitude  of  purity  around !  " 

"  Ah !  "  sighed  the  Goshawk,  dandling  his  flower-pot ; 
"the  moon  gives  strokes  as  well 's  the  sun.  I'  faith,  moon- 
struck and  maid-struck  in  one !  He  '11  be  asking  for  his 
head  soon.  This  dash  of  the  monk  and  the  minstrel  is  a 
sure  sign.  That 's  their  way  of  loving  in  this  land :  they 
all  go  mad,  straight  off.     I  never  heard  such  talk." 

Guy  accompanied  these  remarks  with  a  pitiful  glance  at 
his  companion. 

"  Come,  Sir  Lover !  lend  me  a  help  to  give  back  what 
we  've  borrowed  to  its  rightful  owner.  'S  blood !  but  I  feel 
an  appetite.  This  night-air  takes  me  in  the  wind  like  a 
battering  ram.  I  thought  I  had  laid  in  a  stout  four-and- 
twenty  hours'  stock  of  Westphalian  wurst  at  Master 
Groschen's  supper-table.  Good  stuff,  washed  down  with 
superior  Ehine  wine ;  say  your  Liebfrauenmilch  for  my 
taste  ;  though,  when  I  first  tried  it,  I  grimaced  like  a 
Merry-Andrew,  and  remembered  roast  beef  and  Glo'ster 
ale  in  my  prayers." 

The  Goshawk  was  in  the  act  of  replacing  the  pot  of  lilies, 
when  a  blow  from  a  short  truncheon,  skilfully  flung,  struck 
him  on  the  neck  and  brought  him  to  the  ground.  With 
him  fell  the  lilies.  He  glared  to  the  right  and  left,  and 
grasped  the  broken  flower-pot  for  a  return  missile ;  but  no 
enemy  was  in  view  to  test  his  accuracy  of  aim.  The  deep- 
arched  doorways  showed  their  empty  recesses  :  the  windows 
slept. 

"  Has  that  youth  played  me  false  ?  "  thought  the  dis- 
comfited squire,  as  he  leaned  quietly  on  his  arm.  Farina 
was  nowhere  near. 

Guy  was  quickly  reassured. 

13 


194  FARINA 

"  By  my  fay,  now  !  that 's  a  fine  thing !  and  a  fine 
fellow  !  and  a  fleet  foot !  That  lad  '11  rise !  He  '11  be  a 
squire  some  day.  Look  at  him.  Bowels  of  a'Becket  !  'tis 
a  sight!  I'd  rather  see  that,  now,  than  old  Groschen's 
supper-table  groaning  with  wurst  again,  and  running  a 
river  of  Riidesheimer !  Tussle  on  !  I  '11  lend  a  hand  if 
there 's  occasion  ;  but  you  shall  have  the  honour,  boy,  an 
you  can  win  it." 

This  crying  on  of  the  hound  was  called  forth  by  a  chase 
up  the  street,  in  which  the  Goshawk  beheld  Farina  pursue 
and  capture  a  stalwart  runaway,  who  refused  with  all  his 
might  to  be  brought  back,  striving  every  two  and  three  of 
his  tiptoe  steps  to  turn  against  the  impulse  Farina  had 
got  on  his  neck  and  nether  garments. 

"  Who  'd  have  thought  the  lad  was  so  wiry  and  mettle- 
some, with  his  soft  face,  blue  eyes,  and  lank  locks  ?  but  a 
green  mead  has  more  in  it  than  many  a  black  mountain. 
Hail,  and  well  done  !  if  I  could  dub  you  knight,  I  would : 
trust  me  !"  and  he  shook  Farina  by  the  hand. 

Farina  modestly  stood  aside,  and  allowed  the  Goshawk  to 
confront  his  prisoner. 

"  So,  Sir  Shy-i'the-dark !  gallant  Stick-i'tke-back  !  Squire 
Truncheon,  and  Knight  of  the  noble  order  of  Quicksilver 
Legs!  just  take  your  stand  at  the  distance  you  were  off  me 
when  you  discharged  this  instrument  at  my  head.  By'r 
lady  !  I  smart  a  scratch  to  pay  you  in  coin,  and  it 's  lucky 
for  you  the  coin  is  small,  or  you  might  reckon  on  it  the 
same,  trust  me.    Now,  back  ! " 

The  Goshawk  lunged  out  with  the  truncheon,  but  the 
prisoner  displayed  no  hesitation  in  complying,  and  fell 
back  about  a  space  of  fifteen  yards. 

''I  suppose  he  guesses  I've  never  done  the  stupid  trick 
before,"  mused  Guy,  "  or  he  would  not  be  so  sharp." 
Observing  that  Farina  had  also  fallen  back  in  a  line  as 
guard,  Guy  motioned  him  to  edge  off  to  the  right  more, 
bawling,  "  Never  mind  why  !  " 

"  Now,"  thought  Guy,  "  if  I  were  sure  of  notching  him, 
I'd  do  the  speech  part  first;  but  as  I'm  not  —  throwing 
truncheons  being  no  honourable  profession  anywhere  —  I  '11 
reserve  that.  The  rascal  don't  quail.  We  '11  see  how  long 
he  stands  firm." 


THE   LILIES   OF   THE   VALLEY  195 

The  Goshawk  cleared  his  wrist,  fixed  his  eye,  and  swung 
the  truncheon  meditatively  to  and  fro  by  one  end.  He 
then  launched  off  the  shoulder  a  mighty  down-fling,  calmly, 
watching  it  strike  the  prisoner  to  earth,  like  an  ox  under 
the  hammer. 

"A  hit !"  said  he,  and  smoothed  his  wrist. 

Farina  knelt  by  the  body,  and  lifted  the  head  on  his 
breast.  "  Berthold !  Berthold  !  "  he  cried ;  "  no  further 
harm  shall  hap  to  you,  man !     Speak  ! " 

"  You  ken  the  scapegrace  ?  "  said  Guy,  sauntering  up. 

"  'T  is  Berthold  Schmidt,  son  of  old  Schmidt,  the  great 
goldsmith  of  Cologne." 

"  St.  Dunstan  was  not  at  his  elbow  this  time  !  " 

"  A  rival  of  mine,"  whispered  Farina. 

"  Oho ! "  and  the  Goshawk  wound  a  low  hiss  at  his 
tongue's  tip.  "  Well !  as  I  should  have  spoken  if  his  ears 
had  been  open  :  Justice  struck  the  blow  ;  and  a  gentle  one. 
This  comes  of  taking  a  flying  shot,  and  not  standing  up 
fair.  And  that  seems  all  that  can  be  said.  Where  lives 
he?" 

Farina  pointed  to  the  house  of  the  Lilies. 

"  Beshrew  me !  the  dog  has  some  right  on  his  side. 
Whew !  yonder  he  lives  ?  He  took  us  for  some  night- 
prowlers.  Why  not  come  up  fairly,  and  ask  my  business  ? 
Smelling  a  flower  is  not  worth  a  broken  neck,  nor  defending 
your  premises  quite  deserving  a  hole  in  the  pate.  Now, 
my  lad,  you  see  what  comes  of  dealing  with  cut  and  run 
blows  ;  and  let  this  be  a  warning  to  you." 

They  took  the  body  by  head  and  feet,  and  laid  him  at 
the  door  of  his  father's  house.  Here  the  colour  came  to 
his  cheek,  and  they  wiped  off  the  streaks  of  blood  that 
stained  him.  Guy  proved  he  could  be  tender  with  a  fallen 
foe,  and  Farina  with  an  ill-fated  rival.  It  was  who  could 
suggest  the  soundest  remedies,  or  easiest  postures.  One 
lent  a  kerchief  and  nursed  him;  another  ran  to  the  city 
fountain  and  fetched  him  water.  Meantime  the  moon  had 
dropped,  and  morning,  gray  and  beamless,  looked  on  the 
house-peaks  and  along  the  streets  with  steadier  eye.  They 
now  both  discerned  a  body  of  men,  far  down,  fronting 
Gottlieb's  house,  and  drawn  up  in  some  degree  of  order. 
All  their  charity  forsook  them  at  once. 


196  FAMNA 

"Possess  thyself  of  the  truncheon,"  said  Guy:  "you 
see  it  can  damage.  More  work  before  breakfast,  and  a 
fine  account  I  must  give  of  myself  to  my  hostess  of  the 
Three  Holy  Kings!" 

Farina  recovered  the  destructive  little  instrument. 

"  I  am  ready,"  said  he.  "  But  hark  !  there 's  little  work 
for  us  there,  I  fancy.  Those  be  lads  of  Cologne,  no  grunt- 
ers  of  the  wild.  'T  is  the  White  Rose  Club.  Always  too 
late  for  service." 

Voices  singing  a  hunting  glee,  popular  in  that  age, 
swelled  up  the  clear  morning  air ;  and  gradually  the  words 
became  distinct. 

The  Kaiser  went  a-hunting, 
A-hunting,  tra-ra : 
With  his  hugle-horn  at  springing  morn, 
The  Kaiser  trampled  bud  and  thorn : 

Tra-ra ! 
And  the  dew  shakes  green  as  the  horsemen  rear, 
And  a  thousand  feathers  they  flutter  with  fear ; 
And  a  pang  drives  quick  to  the  heart  of  the  deer; 
For  the  Kaiser 's  out  a-hunting, 
Tra-ra ! 
Ta,  ta,  ta,  ta, 

Tra-ra,  tra-ra, 
Ta-ta,  tra-ra,  tra-ra! 

The  owner  of  the  truncheon  awoke  to  these  reviving 
tones,  and  uttered  a  faint  responsive  "  Tra-ra !  " 

"  Hark  again ! "  said  Farina,  in  reply  to  the  commen- 
dation of  the  Goshawk,  whose  face  was  dimpled  over  with 
the  harmony. 

The  wild  boar  lay  a-grunting, 
A-grunting,  tra-ra ! 
And,  boom  !  comes  the  Kaiser  to  hunt  up  me  ? 
Or,  queak  !  the  small  birdie  that  hops  on  the  tree  ? 

Tra-ra ! 
O  birdie,  and  boar,  and  deer,  lie  tame ! 
For  a  maiden  in  bloom,  or  a  full-blown  dame, 
Are  the  daintiest  prey,  and  the  windingest  game. 
When  Kaisers  go  a-hunting, 
Tra-ra ! 
Ha,  ha,  ha,  ha, 

Tra-ra,  tra-ra, 
Ha-ha,  tra-ra,  tra-ra  f 


THE  MISSIVES  197 

The  voices  held  long  on  the  last  note,  and  let  it  die  in  a 
forest  cadence. 

"  'Fore  Gad  !  well  done.  Hurrah  !  Tra-ra,  ha-ha,  tra-ra ! 
That 's  a  trick  we  're  not  half  alive  to  at  home,"  said  Guy. 
"I  feel  friendly  with  these  German  lads." 

The  Goshawk's  disposition  toward  German  lads  was  that 
moment  harshly  tested  by  a  smart  rap  on  the  shoulder  from 
an  end  of  German  oak,  and  a  proclamation  that  he  was 
prisoner  of  the  hand  that  gave  the  greeting,  in  the  name  of 
the  White  Rose  Club.  Following  that,  his  staff  was  wrested 
from  him  by  a  dozen  stout  young  fellows,  who  gave  him  no 
time  to  get  his  famous  distance  for  defence  against  num. 
bers;  and  he  and  Farina  were  marched  forthwith  to  the 
chorusing  body  in  front  of  Gottlieb  Groschen's  house. 


THE   MISSIVES 


Of  all  the  inmates,  Gottlieb  had  slept  most  with  the  day  on 
his  eyelids,  for  Werner  hung  like  a  nightmare  over  him. 
Margarita  lay  and  dreamed  in  rose-colour,  and  if  she  thrilled 
on  her  pillowed  silken  couch  like  a  tense-strung  harp,  and 
fretted  drowsily  in  little  leaps  and  starts,  it  was  that  a  bird 
lay  in  her  bosom,  panting  and  singing  through  the  night, 
and  that  he  was  not  to  be  stilled,  but  would  musically  utter 
the  sweetest  secret  thoughts  of  a  love-bewitched  maiden. 
Farina's  devotion  she  knew :  his  tenderness  she  divined : 
his  courage  she  had  that  day  witnessed.  The  young  girl  no 
sooner  felt  that  she  could  love  worthily,  than  she  loved 
with  her  whole  strength.  Muffled  and  remote  came  the 
hunting-song  under  her  pillow,  and  awoke  dreamy  delicate 
curves  in  her  fair  face,  as  it  thinned  but  did  not  banish  her 
dream.  Aunt  Lisbeth  also  heard  the  song,  and  burst  out  of 
her  bed  to  see  that  the  door  and  window  were  secured 
against  the  wanton  Kaiser.  Despite  her  trials,  she  had 
taken  her  spell  of  sleep ;  but  being  possessed  of  some  mys- 
tic maiden  belief  that  in  cases  of  apprehended  peril  from 
man,  bed  was  a  rock  of  refuge  and  fortified  defence,  she 
crept  back  there,  and  allowed  the  sun  to  rise  without  her. 


198  FARINA 

Gottlieb's  voice  could  not  awaken  her  to  the  household 
duties  she  loved  to  perform  with  such  a  doleful  visage. 
She  heard  him  open  his  window,  and  parley  in  angry  tones 
with  the  musicians  below. 

"  Decoys  ! "  muttered  Aunt  Lisbeth ;  "  be  thou  alive  to 
them,  Gottlieb!" 

He  went  downstairs  and  opened  the  street-door,  where- 
upon the  scolding  and  railing  commenced  anew. 

"  Thou  hast  given  them  vantage,  Gottlieb,  brother  mine," 
she  complained ;  "  and  the  good  heavens  only  can  say  what 
may  result  from  such  indiscreetness." 

A  silence,  combustible  with  shuffling  of  feet  in  the  pas- 
sage and  on  the  stairs,  dinned  horrors  into  Aunt  Lisbeth's 
head. 

"It  was  just  that  sound  in  the  left  wing  of  Hollenbogen- 
blitz,"  she  said :  "  only  then  it  was  night  and  not  morning. 
Ursula  preserve  me  !  " 

"  Why,  Lisbeth !  Lisbeth !  "  cried  Gottlieb  from  below. 
"  Come  down  !  't  is  full  five  o'  the  morning.  Here 's  com- 
pany ;  and  what  are  we  to  do  without  the  woman  ?  " 

"  Ah,  Gottlieb  !  that  is  like  men !  They  do  not  consider 
how  different  it  is  for  us ! "  which  mysterious  sentence 
being  uttered  to  herself  alone,  enjoyed  a  meaning  it  would 
elsewhere  have  been  denied. 

Aunt  Lisbeth  dressed,  and  met  Margarita  descending. 
They  exchanged  the  good  morning  of  young  maiden  and 
old. 

"  Go  thou  first,"  said  Aunt  Lisbeth. 

Margarita  gaily  tripped  ahead. 

"  Girl !  "  cried  Aunt  Lisbeth,  "  what 's  that  thing  in  thy 
back  hair  ?  " 

"  I  have  borrowed  Lieschen's  arrow,  aunt.  Mine  has  had 
an  accident." 

"  Lieschen's  arrow !  An  accident !  Now  I  will  see  to 
that  after  breakfast,  Margarita." 

"  Tra-ra,  ta-ta,  tra-ra,  tra-ra,"  sang  Margarita. 

"  The  wild  boar  lay  a-grunting, 
A -grunting,  tra-ra." 

"  A  maiden's  true  and  proper  ornament !  Look  at  mine, 
child !     I  have  worn  it  fifty  years.     May  I  deserve  to  wear 


THE    MISSIVES  199 

it  till  I  am  called !  0  Margarita !  trifle  not  with  that 
symbol." 

" '  O  birdie,  and  boar,  and  deer,  lie  tame  ! ' 

I  am  so  happy,  aunty." 

"Nice  times  to  be  happy  in,  Margarita." 

" '  Be  happy  in  Spring,  sweet  maidens  all, 
For  Autumn's  chill  will  early  fall.' 

So  sings  the  Minnesinger,  aunty  ;  and 

'  A  maiden  in  the  wintry  leaf 
Will  spread  her  own  disease  of  grief.' 

I  love  the  Minnesingers !  Dear,  sweet-mannered  men  they 
are !  Such  lovers  !  And  men  of  deeds  as  well  as  song : 
sword  on  one  side  and  harp  on  the  other.  They  fight  till 
set  of  sun,  and  then  slacken  their  armour  to  waft  a  ballad 
to  their  beloved  by  moonlight,  covered  with  stains  of  battle 
as  they  are,  and  weary  !  " 

"  What  a  girl !  Minnesingers  !  Yes  ;  I  know  stories  of 
those  Minnesingers.  They  came  to  the  Castle  —  Margarita, 
a  bead  of  thy  cross  is  broken.  I  will  attend  to  it.  Wear 
the  pearl  one  till  I  mend  this.  May'st  thou  never  fall  in 
the  way  of  Minnesingers.  They  are  not  like  Werner's 
troop.  They  do  not  batter  at  doors :  they  slide  into  the 
house  like  snakes." 

"  Lisbeth  !  Lisbeth !  "  they  heard  Gottlieb  calling  impa- 
tiently. 

"We  come,  Gottlieb!"  and  in  a  low  murmur  Margarita 
heard  her  say  :  "  May  this  day  pass  without  trouble  and 
shame  to  the  pious  and  the  chaste." 

Margarita  knew  the  voice  of  the  stranger  before  she  had 
opened  the  door,  and  on  presenting  herself,  the  hero  gave 
her  a  guardian-like  salute. 

"One  may  see,"  he  said,  "that  it  requires  better  men 
than  those  of  Werner  to  drive  away  the  rose  from  that 
cheek." 

Gottlieb  pressed  the  rosy  cheek  to  his  shoulder  and  patted 
her. 

"  What  do  you  think,  Grete  ?  You  have  now  forty  of  the 
best  lads  in  Cologne  enrolled  to  protect  you,  and   keep 


200  FARINA 

guard  over  the  house  night  and  day.  There !  What  more 
could  a  Pfalzgrafin  ask,  now  ?  Aud  voluntary  service ;  all 
to  be  paid  with  a  smile,  which  I  dare  say  my  lady  won't 
refuse  them.  Lisbeth,  you  know  our  friend.  Fear  him 
not,  good  Lisbeth,  and  give  us  breakfast.  Well,  sweet 
chuck,  you  're  to  have  royal  honours  paid  you.  I  warrant 
they  've  begun  good  work  already  in  locking  up  that  idle 
moony  vagabond,  Farina " 

"  Him  ?  What  for,  my  father  ?  How  dared  they  !  What 
has  he  done  ?  " 

"  0,  start  not,  my  fairy  maid  !  A  small  matter  of  break- 
age, pet !  He  tried  to  enter  Cunigonde  Schmidt's  chamber, 
and  knocked  down  her  pot  of  lilies :  for  which  Berthold 
Schmidt  knocked  him  down,  and  our  friend  here,  out  of 
good  fellowship,  knocked  down  Berthold.  However,  the 
chief  offender  is  marched  off  to  prison  by  your  trusty  guard, 
and  there  let  him  cool  himself.  Berthold  shall  tell  you  the 
tale  himself :  he  '11  be  here  to  breakfast,  and  receive  your 
orders,  mistress  commander-in-chief." 

The  Goshawk  had  his  eye  on  Margarita.  Her  teeth  were 
tight  down  on  her  nether  lip,  and  her  whole  figure  had  a 
strange  look  of  awkwardness,  she  was  so  divided  with  anger. 

"  As  witness  of  the  affair,  I  think  I  shall  make  a  clearer 
statement,  fair  maiden,"  he  interposed.  "  In  the  first  place, 
I  am  the  offender.  We  passed  under  the  window  of  the 
Fraulein  Schmidt,  and  't  was  I  mounted  to  greet  the  lilies. 
One  shoot  of  them  is  in  my  helm,  and  here  let  me  present 
them  to  a  worthier  holder." 

He  offered  the  flowers  with  a  smile,  and  Margarita  took 
them,  radiant  with  gratitude. 

"Our  friend  Berthold,"  he  continued,  "thought  proper 
to  aim  a  blow  at  me  behind  my  back,  and  then  ran  for  his 
comrades.  He  was  caught,  and  by  my  gallant  young  hero, 
Farina ;  concerning  whose  character  I  regret  that  your 
respected  father  and  I  differ :  for,  on  the  faith  of  a  soldier 
and  true  man,  he 's  the  finest  among  the  fine  fellows  I  've 
yet  met  in  Germany,  trust  me.  So,  to  cut  the  story  short, 
execution  was  done  upon  Berthold  by  my  hand,  for  an  act 
of  treachery.  He  appears  to  be  a  sort  of  captain  of  one  of 
the  troops,  and  not  affectionately  disposed  to  Farina ;  for 
the  version  of  the  affair  you  have  heard  from  your  father  is 


THE  MISSIVES  201 

a  little  invention  of  Master  Berthold's  own.  To  do  hirn 
justice,  he  seemed  equally  williug  to  get  me  under  the  cold 
stone ;  but  a  word  from  your  good  father  changed  the  cur- 
rent ;  and  as  I  thought  I  could  serve  our  friend  better  free 
than  behind  bars,  I  accepted  liberty.  Pshaw !  I  should 
have  accepted  it  any  way,  to  tell  the  truth,  for  your  German 
dungeons  are  mortal  shivering  ratty  places.  So  rank  me 
no  hero,  fair  Mistress  Margarita,  though  the  temptation  to 
seem  one  in  such  sweet  eyes  was  beginning  to  lead  me 
astray.  And  now,  as  to  our  business  in  the  streets  at  this 
hour,  believe  the  best  of  us." 

"  I  will !  I  do  ! "  said  Margarita. 

"  Lisbeth !  Lisbeth  !  "  called  Gottlieb.  "  Breakfast,  little 
sister !  our  champion  is  starving.  He  asks  for  wurst,  milk- 
loaves,  wine,  and  all  thy  rarest  conserves.  Haste,  then,  for 
the  honour  of  Cologne  is  at  stake." 

Aunt  Lisbeth  jingled  her  keys  in  and  out,  and  soon  that 
harmony  drew  a  number  of  domestics  with  platters  of 
swine  flesh,  rolls  of  white  wheaten  bread,  the  perpetual 
wurst,  milk,  wine,  barley-bread,  and  household  stores  of 
dainties  in  profusion,  all  sparkling  on  silver,  relieved  by 
spotless  white  cloth.  Gottlieb  beheld  such  a  sunny  twinkle 
across  the  Goshawk's  face  at  this  hospitable  array,  that  he 
gave  the  word  of  onset  without  waiting  for  Berthold,  and 
his  guest  immediately  fell  to,  and  did  not  relax  in  his  exer- 
tions for  a  full  half-hour  by  the  Cathedral  clock,  eschewing 
the  beer  with  a  wry  look  made  up  of  scorn  and  ruefulness, 
and  drinking  a  well-brimmed  health  in  Khine  wine  all 
round.  Margarita  was  pensive :  Aunt  Lisbeth  on  her  guard. 
Gottlieb  remembered  Charles  the  Great's  counsel  to  Arch- 
bishop Turpin,  and  did  his  best  to  remain  on  earth  one  of 
its  lords  dominant. 

"  Poor  Berthold ! "  said  he.  "  'T  is  a  good  lad,  and  deserves 
his  seat  at  my  table  oftener.  I  suppose  the  flower-pot  busi- 
ness has  detained  him.     We  '11  drink  to  him  :  eh,  Grete  ?  " 

"  Drink  to  him,  dear  father !  —  but  here  he  is  to  thank 
you  in  person." 

Margarita  felt  a  twinge  of  pity  as  Berthold  entered.  The 
livid  stains  of  his  bruise  deepened  about  his  eyes,  and  gave 
them  a  wicked  light  whenever  they  were  fixed  intently ; 
but  they  looked  earnest ;  and  spoke  of  a  combat  in  which 


202  FAKINA 

he  could  say  that  he  proved  no  coward  and  was  used  with 
some  cruelty.  She  turned  on  the  Goshawk  a  mute  reproach ; 
yet  smiled  and  loved  him  well  when  she  beheld  him  stretch 
a  hand  of  welcome  and  proffer  a  brotherly  glass  to  Berthold. 
The  rich  goldsmith's  son  was  occupied  in  studying  the 
horoscope  of  his  fortunes  in  Margarita's  eyes  ;  but  when 
Margarita  directed  his  attention  to  Guy,  he  turned  to  him 
with   a   glance   of    astonishment  that   yielded   to   cordial 

greeting.  . 

"  Well  done,  Berthold,  my  brave  boy  !  All  are  friends 
who  sit  at  table,"  said  Gottlieb.  "In  any  case,  at  my 
table :  — 

"T  is  a  worthy  foe 
Forgives  the  blow- 
Was  dealt  him  full  and  fairly,' 

says  the  song ;  and  the  proverb  takes  it  up  with,  *  A  gen- 
erous  enemy  is  a  friend  on  the  wrong  side ; '  and  no  one  's 
to  blame  for  that,  save  old  Dame  Fortune.  So  now  a  bumper 
to  this  jovial  make-up  between  you.  Lisbeth!  you  must 
drink  it." 

The  little  woman  bowed  melancholy  obedience. 

"Why  did  you  fling  and  run?"  whispered  Guy  to 
Berthold. 

"Because  you  were  two  against  one." 

"  Two  against  one,  man !  Why,  have  you  no  such  thing 
as  fair  play  in  this  land  of  yours  ?  Did  you  think  I  should 
have  taken  advantage  of  that  ?  " 

"How  could  I  tell  who  you  were,  or  what  you  would 
do  ?  "  muttered  Berthold,  somewhat  sullenly. 

"  Truly  no,  friend  !  So  you  ran  to  make  yourself  twenty 
to  two  ?  But  don't  be  down  on  the  subject.  I  was  going 
to  say,  that  though  I  treated  you  in  a  manner  upright,  't  was 
perhaps,  a  trifle  severe,  considering  your  youth :  _  but  an 
example's  everything;  and  I  must  let  you  know  in  confi- 
dence, that  no  rascal  truncheon  had  I  flung  in  my  life 
before;  so,  you  see,  I  gave  you  all  the  chances." 

Berthold  moved  his  lips  in  reply;  but  thinking  of  the 
figure  of  defeat  he  was  exhibiting  before  Margarita,  caused 
him  to  estimate  unfavourably  what  chances  had  stood  in 
his  favour. 


THE  MISSIVES  203 

The  health  was  drunk.  Aunt  Lisbeth  touched  the  smoky- 
yellow  glass  with  a  mincing  lip,  and  beckoned  Margarita  to 
withdraw. 

"  The  tapestry,  child ! "  she  said.  "  Dangerous  things  are 
uttered  after  the  third  glass,  I  know,  Margarita." 

"  Do  you  call  my  champion  handsome,  aunt  ?  " 

"  I  was  going  to  speak  to  you  about  him,  Margarita.  If  I 
remember,  he  has  rough,  good  looks,  as  far  as  they  go.  Yes : 
but  thou,  maiden,  art  thou  thinking  of  him  ?  I  have  thrice 
watched  him  wink ;  and  that,  as  we  know,  is  a  habit  of 
them  that  have  sold  themselves.  And  what  is  frail  woman- 
kind to  expect  from  such  a  brawny  animal  ?  " 

"  And  oh !  to  lace  his  armour  up, 
And  speed  him  to  the  field  ; 
To  pledge  him  in  a  kissing-cup, 
The  knight  that  will  not  yield  ! 

I  am  sure  he  is  tender,  aunt.  Notice  how  gentle  he  looks 
now  and  then.'5, 

"  Thou  girl !  Yes,  I  believe  she  is  madly  in  love  with 
him.  Tender,  and  gentle!  So  is  the  bear  when  you're 
outside  his  den ;  but  enter  it,  maiden,  and  try !  Thou  good 
Ursula,  preserve  me  from  such  a  fate." 

"  Fear  not,  dear  aunt !  Have  not  a  fear  of  it !  Besides, 
it  is  not  always  the  men  that  are  bad.  You  must  not 
forget  Dalilah,  and  Lot's  wife,  and  Pfalzgrafin  Jutta,  and 
the  Baroness  who  asked  for  a  piece  of  poor  Kraut.  But, 
let  us  work,  let  us  work  ! " 

Margarita  sat  down  before  Siegfried,  and  contemplated 
the  hero.  For  the  first  time,  she  marked  a  resemblance  in 
his  features  to  Farina :  the  same  long  yellow  hair  scattered 
over  his  shoulders  as  that  flowing  from  under  Siegfried's 
helm  ;  the  blue  eyes,  square  brows,  and  regular  outlines. 
"  This  is  a  marvel,"  thought  Margarita.  "  And  Farina  !  it 
was  to  watch  over  me  that  he  roamed  the  street  last  night, 
my  best  one !  Is  he  not  beautiful  ?  "  and  she  looked  closer 
at  Siegfried. 

Aunt  Lisbeth  had  begun  upon  the  dragon  with  her  usual 
method,  and  was  soon  wandering  through  skeleton  halls  of 
the  old  palatial  castle  in  Bohemia.  The  woolly  tongue  of 
the  monster  suggested  fresh  horrors  to  her,  and  if  Margarita 


204  FAEINA 

had  listened,  she  might  have  had  fair  excuses  to  forget  her 
lover's  condition ;  but  her  voice  only  did  service  like  a 
piece  of  clock-work,  and  her  mind  was  in  the  prison  with 
Farina.  She  was  long  debating  how  to  win  his  release; 
and  meditated  so  deeply,  and  exclaimed  in  so  many  bursts 
of  impatience,  that  Aunt  Lisbeth  found  her  heart  melting 
to  the  maiden. 

"  Now,"  said  she,  "  that  is  a  well-known  story  about  the 
Electress  Dowager  of  Bavaria,  when  she  came  on  a  visit  to 
the  Castle ;  and,  my  dear  child,  be  it  a  warning.  Terrible, 
too ! "  and  the  little  woman  shivered  pleasantly.  "  She 
had  —  I  may  tell  you  this,  Margarita  —  yes,  she  had  been 
false  to  her  wedded  husband.  —  You  understand,  maiden  ; 
or,  no  !  you  do  not  understand :  I  understand  it  only  partly, 
mind.     False,  I  say " 

"False  —  not  true:  go  on,  dear  aunty,"  said  Margarita, 
catching  the  word. 

"  I  believe  she  knows  as  much  as  I  do !  "  ejaculated  Aunt 
Lisbeth ;  "  such  are  girls  nowadays.  When  I  was  young 
—  oh  !  for  a  maiden  to  know  anything  then  —  oh  !  it  was 
general  reprobation.  No  one  thought  of  confessing  it. 
We  blushed  and  held  down  our  eyes  at  the  very  idea. 
Well,  the  Electress!  she  was — you  must  guess.  So  she 
tailed  for  her  caudle  at  eleven  o'clock  at  night.  What  do 
you  think  that  was  ?  Well,  there  was  spirit  in  it :  not  to 
say  nutmeg,  and  lemon,  and  peach-kernels.  She  wanted 
me  to  sit  with  her,  but  I  begged  my  mistress  to  keep  me 
from  the  naughty  woman :  and  no  friend  of  Hilda  of 
Bayern  was  Bertha  of  Bohmen,  you  may  be  sure.  Oh !  the 
things  she  talked  while  she  was  drinking  her  caudle.  Isen- 
trude  sat  with  her,  and  said  it  was  fearful !  —  beyond 
blasphemy  !  and  that  she  looked  like  a  Bible  witch,  sitting 
up  drinking  and  swearing  and  glaring  in  her  nightclothes 
and  nightcap.  She  was  on  a  journey  into  Hungary,  and 
claimed  the  hospitality  of  the  Castle  on  her  way  there. 
Both  were  widows.  Well,  it  was  a  quarter  to  twelve..  The 
Electress  dropped  back  on  her  pillow,  as  she  always  did 
when  she  had  finished  the  caudle.  Isentrude  covered  her 
over,  heaped  up  logs  on  the  fire,  wrapped  her  dressing-gown 
about  her,  and  prepared  to  sleep.  It  was  Winter,  and  the 
wind  howled  at  the  doors,  and  rattled  the  windows,  and 


THE  MISSIVES  205 

shook  the  arras  —  Lord  help  us !  Outside  was  all  snow, 
and  nothing  but  forest ;  as  you  saw  when  you  came  to  me 
there,  Gretelchen.  Twelve  struck.  Isentrude  was  dozing; 
but  she  says  that  after  the  last  stroke  she  woke  with  cold. 
A  foggy  chill  hung  in  the  room.  She  looked  at  the  Elec- 
tress,  who  had  not  moved.  The  fire  burned  feebly,  and 
seemed  weighed  upon  :  Herr  Je  !  —  she  thought  she  heard 
a  noise.  No.  Quite  quiet !  As  heaven  preserve  her,  says 
she,  the  smell  in  that  room  grew  like  an  open  grave, 
clammily  putrid.  Holy  Virgin !  This  time  she  was  cer- 
tain she  heard  a  noise ;  but  it  seemed  on  both  sides  of  her. 
There  was  the  great  door  leading  to  the  first  landing  and 
state-room ;  and  opposite  exactly  there  was  the  panel  of  the 
secret  passage.  The  noises  seemed  to  advance  as  if  step  by 
step,  and  grew  louder  in  each  ear  as  she  stood  horrified  on 
the  marble  of  the  hearth.  She  looked  at  the  Electress 
again,  and  her  eyes  were  wide  open ;  but  for  all  Isentrude's 
calling,  she  would  not  wake.  Only  think  !  Now  the  noise 
increased,  and  was  a  regular  tramp-grate,  tramp-screw 
sound  —  coming  nearer  and  nearer :  Saints  of  mercy  !  The 
apartment  was  choking  with  vapours.  Isentrude  made  a 
dart,  and  robed  herself  behind  a  curtain  of  the  bed  just  as 
the  two  doors  opened.  She  could  see  through  a  slit  in  the 
woven  work,  and  winked  her  eyes  —  which  she  had  shut 
close  on  hearing  the  scream  of  the  door-hinges  —  winked 
her  eyes  to  catch  a  sight  for  a  moment  —  we  are  such  sinful, 
curious  creatures !  —  What  she  saw  then,  she  says  she  shall 
never  forget ;  nor  I !  As  she  was  a  living  woman,  there  she 
saw  the  two  dead  princes,  the  Prince  Palatine  of  Bohemia 
and  the  Elector  of  Bavaria,  standing  front  to  front  at  the 
foot  of  the  bed,  all  in  white  armour,  with  drawn  swords,  and 
attendants  holding  pine-torches.  Neither  of  them  spoke. 
Their  vizors  were  down ;  but  she  knew  them  by  their  arms 
and  bearing  :  both  tall,  stately  presences,  good  knights  in 
their  day,  and  had  fought  against  the  Infidel.  So  one  of 
them  pointed  to  the  bed,  and  then  a  torch  was  lowered,  and 
the  fight  commenced.  Isentrude  saw  the  sparks  fly,  and 
the  steel  struck  till  it  was  shattered;  but  they  fought  on, 
not  caring  for  wounds,  and  snorting  with  fury  as  they  grew 
hotter.  They  fought  a  whole  hour.  The  poor  girl  was  so 
eaten  up  with  looking  on,  that  she  let  go  the  curtain  and 


206  FARINA 

stood  quite  exposed  among  them.  So,  to  steady  herself, 
she  rested  her  hand  on  the  bed-side  ;  and  —  think  what  she 
felt  —  a  hand  as  cold  as  ice  locked  hers,  and  get  from  it 
she  could  not!  That  instant  one  of  the  princes  fell.  It 
was  Bohmen.  Bayern  sheathed  his  sword,  and  waved  his 
hand,  and  the  attendants  took  up  the  slaughtered  ghost, 
feet  and  shoulders,  and  bore  him  to  the  door  of  the  secret 
passage,  while  Bayern  strode  after " 

"  Shameful ! "  exclaimed  Margarita.  "  I  will  speak  to 
Berthold  as  he  descends.  I  hear  him  coming.  He  shall 
do  what  I  wish." 

"  Call  it  dreadful,  Grete  !  Dreadful  it  was.  If  Berthold 
would  like  to  sit  and  hear  —  Ah  !  she  is  gone.  A  good  girl ! 
and  of  a  levity  only  on  the  surface." 

Aunt  Lisbeth  heard  Margarita's  voice  rapidly  addressing 
Berthold.  His  reply  was  low  and  brief.  "  Refuses  to  listen 
to  anything  of  the  sort,"  Aunt  Lisbeth  interpreted  it.  Then 
he  seemed  to  be  pleading,  and  Margarita  uttering  short 
answers.  "  I  trust 't  is  nothing  a  maiden  should  not  hear," 
the  little  lady  exclaimed  with  a  sigh. 

The  door  opened,  and  Lieschen  stood  at  the  entrance. 

"For  Fraulein  Margarita,"  she  said,  holding  a  letter 
half-way  out. 

"  Give  it,"  Aunt  Lisbeth  commanded. 

The  woman  hesitated  —  "  'T  is  for  the  Fraulein." 

"Give  it,  I  tell  thee  !  "  and  Aunt  Lisbeth  eagerly  seized 
the  missive,  and  subjected  it  to  the  ordeal  of  touch.  It 
was  heavy,  and  contained  something  hard.  Long  pensive 
pressures  revealed  its  shape  on  the  paper.  It  wis  an 
arrow. 

"  Go ! "  said  she  to  the  woman,  and,  once  alone,  began, 
bee-like,  to  buzz  all  over  it,  and  finally  entered.  It  con- 
tained Margarita's  Silver  Arrow.  "The  art  of  that  girl!  " 
And  the  writing  said  : 

"  Sweetest  Maiden  ! 

"By  this  arrow  of  our  betrothal,  I  conjure  thee  to  meet 
me  in  all  haste  without  the  western  gate,  where,  burning  to 
reveal  to  thee  most  urgent  tidings  that  may  not  be  confided 
to  paper,  now  waits,  petitioning  the  saints,  thy 

"  Farina." 


THE  MISSIVES  207 

Aunt  Lisbeth  placed  letter  and  arrow  in  a  draweref  locked 
it;  and  "always  thought  so."  She  ascended  the  stairs  to 
consult  with  Gottlieb.  Koars  of  laughter  greeted  her  just 
as  she  lifted  the  latch,  and  she  retreated  abashed.  There 
was  no  time  to  lose.  Farina  must  be  caught  in  the  act  of 
waiting  for  Margarita,  and  by  Gottlieb,  or  herself.  Gottlieb 
was  revelling.  "May  this  be  a  warning  to  thee,  Gottlieb," 
murmured  Lisbeth,  as  she  hooded  her  little  body  in  Mar- 
garita's fur-cloak,  and  determined  that  she  would  be  the 
one  to  confound  Farina. 

Five  minutes  later  Margarita  returned.  Aunt  Lisbeth 
was  gone.  The  dragon  still  lacked  a  tip  to  his  forked 
tongue,  and  a  stream  of  fiery  threads  dangled  from  the 
jaws  of  the  monster.  Another  letter  was  brought  into 
the  room  by  Lieschen. 

"  For  Aunt  Lisbeth,"  said  Margarita,  reading  the  address. 
"  Who  can  it  be  from  ?  " 

"  She  does  not  stand  pressing  about  your  letters,"  said  the 
woman ;  and  informed  Margarita  of  the  foregoing  missive. 

"  You  say  she  drew  an  arrow  from  it  ?  "  said  Margarita, 
with  burning  face.  "  Who  brought  this  ?  tell  me ! "  and 
just  waiting  to  hear  it  was  Farina's  mother,  she  tore  the 
letter  open,  and  read :  — 

"  Dearest  Lisbeth  ! 

"  Thy  old  friend  writes  to  thee ;  she  that  has  scarce 
left  eyes  to  see  the  words  she  writes.  Thou  knowest  we 
are  a  fallen  house,  through  the  displeasure  of  the  Emperor 
on  my  dead  husband.  My  son,  Farina,  is  my  only  stay, 
and  well  returns  to  me  the  blessings  I  bestow  upon  him. 
Some  call  him  idle:  some  think  him  too  wise.  I  swear  to 
thee,  Lisbeth,  he  is  only  good.  His  hours  are  devoted  to 
the  extraction  of  essences,  —  to  no  black  magic.  Now  he 
is  in  trouble  —  in  prison.  The  shadow  that  destroyed  his 
dead  father  threatens  him.  Now,  by  our  old  friendship, 
beloved  Lisbeth!  intercede  with  Gottlieb,  that  he  may 
plead  for  my  son  before  the  Emperor  when  he  comes " 

Margarita  read  no  more.  She  went  to  the  window,  and 
saw  her  guard  marshalled  outside.  She  threw  a  kerchief 
over  her  head,  and  left  the  house  by  the  garden  gate. 


208  FAEINA 

THE   MONK 

By  this  time  the  sun  stood  high  over  Cologne.  The  market- 
places  were  crowded  with  buyers  and  sellers,  mixed  with  a 
loitering  swarm  of  soldiery,  for  whose  thirsty  natures  wine- 
stalls  had  been  tumbled  up.  Barons  and  knights  of  the 
empire,  bravely  mounted  and  thickly  followed,  poured 
hourly  into  Cologne  from  South  Germany  and  North. 
Here,  staring  Suabians,  and  round-featured  warriors  of  the 
East  Kingdom,  swaggered  up  and  down,  patting  what 
horses  came  across  them,  for  lack  of  occupation  for  their 
hands.  Yonder,  •  huge  Pomeranians,  with  bosks  of  beard 
stiffened  out  square  from  the  chin,  hurtled  mountainous 
among  the  peaceable  inhabitants.  Troopers  dismounted 
went  straddling,  in  tight  hose  and  loose,  prepared  to  drink 
good-will  to  whomsoever  would  furnish  the  best  quality 
liquor  for  that  solemn  pledge,  and  equally  ready  to  pick 
a  quarrel  with  them  that  would  not.  It  was  a  scene  of 
flaring  feathers,  wide-flapped  bonnets,  flaunting  hose,  blue 
and  battered  steel  plates,  slashed  woollen  haunch-bags, 
leather-leggings,  ensigns,  and  imperious  boots  and  shoul- 
ders. Margarita  was  too  hurried  in  her  mind  to  be  con- 
scious of  an  imprudence ;  but  her  limbs  trembled,  and  she 
instinctively  quickened  her  steps.  When  she  stood  under 
the  sign  of  the  Three  Holy  Kings,  where  dwelt  Farina's 
mother,  she  put  up  a  fervent  prayer  of  thanks,  and  breathed 
freely. 

"I  had  expected  a  message  from  Lisbeth,"  said  Frau 
Farina  ;  "  but  thou,  good  heart !  thou  wilt  help  us  ?  " 

"All  that  may  be  done  by  me  I  will  do,"  replied  Mar- 
garita ;  "  but  his  mother  yearns  to  see  him,  and  I  have 
come  to  bear  her  company." 

The  old  lady  clasped  her  hands  and  wept. 

"  Has  he  found  so  good  a  friend,  my  poor  boy !  And 
trust  me,  dear  maiden,  he  is  not  unworthy,  for  better  son 
never  lived,  and  good  son,  good  all !  Surely  we  will  go  to 
him,  but  not  as  thou  art.     I  will  dress  thee.     Such  throngs 


THE   MONK  209 

are  in  the  streets:  I  heard  them  clattering  in  early  this 
morning.     Rest,  dear  heart,  till  1  return." 

Margarita  had  time  to  inspect  the  single  sitting-room  in 
which  her  lover  lived.  It  was  planted  with  bottles,  and 
vases,  and  pipes,  and  cylinders,  piling  on  floor,  chair,  and 
table.  She  could  not  suppress  a  slight  surprise  of  fear,  for 
this  display  showed  a  dealing  with  hidden  things,  and  a 
summoning  of  scattered  spirits.  It  was  this  that  made  his 
brow  so  pale,  and  the  round  of  his  eye  darker  than  youth 
should  let  it  be  !  She  dismissed  the  feeling,  and  assumed 
her  own  bright  face  as  Dame  Farina  reappeared,  bearing  on 
her  arm  a  convent  garb,  and  other  apparel.  Margarita 
suffered  herself  to  be  invested  in  the  white  and  black  robes 
of  the  denial  of  life. 

"  There  !  "  said  the  Frau  Farina,  "  and  to  seal  assurance, 
I  have  engaged  a  guard  to  accompany  us.  He  was  sorely 
bruised  in  a  street  combat  yesterday,  and  was  billeted 
below,  where  I  nursed  and  tended  him,  and  he  is  grateful, 
as  man  should  be  —  though  I  did  little,  doing  my  utmost  — 
and  with  him  near  us  we  have  nought  to  fear." 

"  Good,"  said  Margarita,  and  they  kissed  and  departed. 
The  guard  was  awaiting  them  outside. 

"Come,  my  little  lady,  and  with  thee  the  holy  sister! 
'T  is  no  step  from  here,  and  I  gage  to  bring  ye  safe,  as  sure 
as  my  name  's  Schwartz  Thier !  —  Hey  ?  The  good  sister 's 
dropping.     Look,  now  !  I  '11  carry  her." 

Margarita  recovered  her  self-command  before  he  could 
make  good  this  offer. 

"  Only  let  us  hasten  there,"  she  gasped. 

The  Thier  strode  on,  and  gave  them  safe-conduct  to  the 
prison  where  Farina  was  confined,  being  near  one  of  the 
outer  forts  of  the  city. 

"Thank  and  dismiss  him,"  whispered  Margarita. 

"  Nay !  he  will  wait  —  wilt  thou  not,  friend  ?  We  shall 
not  be  long,  though  it  is  my  son  I  visit  here,"  said  Frau 
Farina. 

"Till  to-morrow  morning,  my  little  lady!  The  lion 
thanked  him  that  plucked  the  thorn  from  his  foot,  and  the 
Thier  may  be  black,  but  he  Js  not  ungrateful,  nor  a  worse 
beast  than  the  lion." 

They  entered  the  walls  and  left  him. 


210  FARINA 

For  the  first  five  minutes  Schwartz  Thier  found  employ- 
ment for  his  faculties  by  staring  at  the  shaky,  small-paned 
windows  of  the  neighbourhood.  He  persevered  in  this, 
after  all  novelty  had  been  exhausted,  from  an  intuitive 
dread  of  weariness.  There  was  nothing  to  see.  An  old 
woman  once  bobbed  out  of  an  attic,  and  doused  the  flints 
with  water.  Harassed  by  increasing  dread  of  the  foul 
nightmare  of  nothing-to-do,  the  Thier  endeavoured  to 
establish  amorous  intelligence  with  her.  She  responded 
with  an  indignant  projection  of  the  under-jaw,  evanishing 
rapidly.  There  was  no  resource  left  him  but  to  curse  her 
with  extreme  heartiness.  The  Thier  stamped  his  right  leg, 
and  then  his  left,  and  remembered  the  old  woman  as  a 
grievance  five  minutes  longer.  When  she  was  clean  for- 
gotten, he  yawned.  Another  spouse  of  the  moment  was 
wanted,  to  be  wooed,  objurgated,  and  regretted.  The 
prison-gate  was  in  a  secluded  street.  Few  passengers  went 
by,  and  those  who  did  edged  away  from  the  ponderous, 
wanton-eyed  figure  of  lazy  mischief  lounging  there,  as 
neatly  as  they  well  could.  The  Thier  hailed  two  or  three. 
One  took  to  his  legs,  another  bowed,  smirked,  gave  him 
a  kindly  good-day,  and  affected  to  hear  no  more,  having 
urgent  business  in  prospect.  The  Thier  was  a  faithful 
dog,  but  the  temptation  to  betray  his  trust  and  pursue 
them  was  mighty.  He  began  to  experience  an  equal  dis- 
position to  cry  and  roar.     He  hummed  a  ballad :  — 

"  I  swore  of  her  I  'd  have  my  will, 
And  with  him  I  'd  have  my  way : 
I  learn'd  my  cross-bow  over  the  hill :  — 
Now  what  does  my  lady  say  1 

Give  me  the  good  old  cross-bow,  after  all,  and  none  of  these 
lumbering  puff-and-bangs  that  knock  you  down  oftener 
than  your  man!  — 

"  A  cross  stands  in  the  forest  still, 

And  a  cross  in  the  churchyard  gray : 
My  curse  on  him  who  had  his  will, 
And  on  him  who  had  his  way  ! 

Good  beginning,  bad  ending !  'T  is  n't  so  always.  '  Many 
a  cross  has  the  cross-bow  built,'  they  say.  I  wish  I  had 
mine,  now,  to  peg  off  that  old  woman,  or  somebody.     I'd 


THE  MONK  211 

swear  she's  peeping  at  me  over  the  gable,  or  behind  some 
cranny.  They  're  curious,  the  old  women,  curse  'eml 
And  the  young,  for  that  matter.     Devil  a  young  one  here. 

"  When  I  'm  in  for  the  sack  of  a  town, 
What,  think  ye,  I  poke  after,  up  and  down  ? 
Silver  and  gold  I  pocket  in  plenty, 
But  the  sweet  tit-bit  is  my  hiss  under  twenty. 

I  should  like  to  be  in  for  the  sack  of  this  Cologne.  I  'd 
nose  out  that  pretty  girl  I  was  cheated  of  yesterday.  Take 
the  gold  and  silver,  and  give  me  the  maiden !  Her  neck  's 
silver,  and  her  hair  gold.  Ah !  and  her  cheeks  roses,  and 
her  mouth  —  say  no  more!  I'm  half  thinking  Werner, 
the  hungry  animal,  has  cast  wolf's  eyes  on  her.  They  say 
he  spoke  of  her  last  night.  Don't  let  him  thwart  me. 
Thunderblast  him  !  I  owe  him  a  grudge.  He  's  beginning 
to  forget  my  plan  o'  life." 

A  flight  of  pigeons  across  the  blue  top  of  the  street 
abstracted  the  Thier  from  these  reflections.  He  gaped 
after  them  in  despair,  and  fell  to  stretching  and  shaking 
himself,  rattling  his  lungs  with  loud  reports.  As  he  threw 
his  eyes  round  again,  they  encountered  those  of  a  monk 
opposite  fastened  on  him  in  penetrating  silence.  The 
Thier  hated  monks  as  a  wild  beast  shuns  fire ;  but  now 
even  a  monk  was  welcome. 

"  Halloo  !  "  he  sung  out. 

The  monk  crossed  over  to  him. 

"Friend!"  said  he,  "weariness  is  teaching  thee  wanton- 
ness. Wilt  thou  take  service  for  a  night's  work,  where  the 
danger  is  little,  the  reward  lasting  ?  " 

"  As  for  that,"  replied  the  Thier,  "  danger  comes  to  me 
like  greenwood  to  the  deer,  and  good  pay  never  yet  was 
given  in  pi-omises.  But  I'm  bound  for  the  next  hour  to 
womankind  within  there.  They  're  my  masters ;  as  they  've 
been  of  tough  fellows  before  me." 

"I  will  seek  them,  and  win  their  consent,"  said  the 
monk,  and  so  left  him. 

"  Quick  dealing ! "  thought  the  Thier,  and  grew  brisker. 
"  The  Baron  won't  want  me  to-night :  and  what  if  he 
does  ?  Let  him  hang  himself  —  though,  if  he  should,  't  will 
be  a  pity  I  'm  not  by  to  help  him." 


212  FARINA 

He  paced  under  the  wall  to  its  farthest  course.  Turn- 
ing back,  he  perceived  the  monk  at  the  gateway. 

"A  sharp  hand!  "  thought  the  Thier. 

"  Intrude  no  question  on  me,"  the  monk  began ;  "  but  hold 
thy  peace  and  follow :  the  women  release  thee,  and  gladly." 

"That's  not  my  piano'  life,  now!  Money  down,  and 
then  command  me : "  and  Schwartz  Thier  stood  with  one 
foot  forward,  and  hand  stretched  out. 

A  curl  of  scorn  darkened  the  cold  features  of  the  monk. 
He  slid  one  hand  into  a  side  of  his  frock  above  the  girdle, 
and  tossed  a  bag  of  coin. 

"  Take  it,  if  't  is  in  thee  to  forfeit  the  greater  blessing," 
he  cried  contemptuously. 

The  Thier  peeped  into  the  bag,  and  appeared  satisfied. 

"I  follow,"  said  he;  "  lead  on,  good  father,  and  I'll  be  in 
the  track  of  holiness  for  the  first  time  since  my  mother  was 
quit  of  me." 

The  monk  hurried  up  the  street  and  into  the  market- 
place, oblivious  of  the  postures  and  reverences  of  the 
people,  who  stopped  to  stare  at  him  and  his  gaunt  attend- 
ant. As  they  crossed  the  square,  Schwartz  Thier  spied 
Henker  Rothhals  starting  from  a  wine-stall  on  horseback, 
and  could  not  forbear  hailing  him.  Before  the  monk  had 
time  to  utter  a  reproach,  they  were  deep  together  in  a 
double-shot  of  query  and  reply. 

"  Whirr  !  "  cried  the  Thier,  breaking  on  some  communica- 
tion. "  Got  her,  have  they  ?  and  swung  her  across  stream  ? 
I  'm  one  with  ye  for  my  share,  or  call  me  sheep  !  " 

He  waved  his  hand  to  the  monk,  and  taking  hold  of  the 
horse's  rein,  ran  off  beside  his  mounted  confederate,  heavily 
shod  as  he  was. 

The  monk  frowned  after  him,  and  swelled  with  a  hard 
sigh. 

"  Gone !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  and  the  accursed  gold  with 
him  !  Well  did  a  voice  warn  me  that  such  service  was 
never  to  be  bought !  " 

He  did  not  pause  to  bewail  or  repent,  but  returned 
toward  the  prison  with  rapid  footsteps,  muttering:  "I 
with  the  prison-pass  xor  two  ;  why  was  I  beguiled  by  that 
bandit  ?  Saw  I  not  the  very  youth  given  into  my  hands 
there,  he  tlw-t  was  with  the  damsel  and  the  aged  woman  ?  " 


THE  RIDE  AND   THE   RACE  213 


THE   RIDE   AND   THE   RACE 

Late  in  the  noon  a  horseman,  in  the  livery  of  the  Kaiser's 
body-guard,  rode  dry  and  dusty  into  Cologne,  with  tidings 
that  the  Kaiser  was  at  Hammerstein  Castle,  and  command- 
ing all  convocated  knights,  barons,  counts,  and  princes,  to 
assemble  and  prepare  for  his  coining,  on  a  certain  bare 
space  of  ground  within  two  leagues  of  Cologne,  thence  to 
swell  the  train  of  his  triumphal  entry  into  the  ancient  city 
of  his  empire. 

Guy  the  Goshawk,  broad-set  on  a  Flemish  mare,  and  a 
pack-horse  beside  him,  shortly  afterward  left  the  hotel  of 
the  Three  Holy  Kings,  and  trotted  up  to  Gottlieb's  door. 

"Tent-pitching  is  now  my  trade,"  said  he,  as  Gottlieb 
came  down  to  him.  "  My  lord  is  with  the  Kaiser.  I  must 
say  farewell  for  the  nonce.     Is  the  young  lady  visible  ?  " 

"  Nor  young,  nor  old,  good  friend,"  replied  Gottlieb,  with 
a  countenance  somewhat  ruffled.  "  I  dined  alone  for  lack 
of  your  company.  Secret  missives  came,  I  hear,  to  each  of 
them,  and  both  are  gadding.  Now  what  think  you  of  this, 
after  the  scene  of  yesterday  ?  — Lisbeth  too!  " 

"  Preaches  from  the  old  text,  Master  Groschen ;  '  Never 
reckon  on  womankind  for  a  wise  act.'  But  farewell !  and 
tell  Mistress  Margarita  that  I  take  it  ill  of  her  not  giving 
me  her  maiden  hand  to  salute  before  parting.  My  gravest 
respects  to  Frau  Lisbeth.  I  shall  soon  be  sitting  with  you 
over  that  prime  vintage  of  yours,  or  fortune 's  dead  against 
me." 

So,  with  a  wring  of  the  hand,  Guy  put  the  spur  to  his 
round-flanked  beast,  and  was  quickly  out  of  Cologne  on  the 
rough  roadway. 

He  was  neither  the  first  nor  the  last  of  the  men-at-arms 
hastening  to  obey  the  Kaiser's  mandate.  A  string  of  horse 
and  foot  in  serpentine  knots  stretched  along  the  flat  land, 
flashing  colours  livelier  than  the  spring-meadows  bordering 
their  line  of  passage.  Guy,  with  a  nod  for  all,  and  a  greet- 
ing for  the  best-disposed,  pushed  on  toward  the  van,  till 
the  gathering  block  compelled  him  to  adopt  the  snail's  pace 


214  FARINA 

of  the  advance  party,  and  gave  him  work  enough  to  keep 
his  two  horses  i'rom  being  jammed  with  the  mass.  Now 
and  then  he  cast  a  weather-eye  on  the  heavens,  and  was 
soon  confirmed  in  an  opinion  he  had  repeatedly  ejaculated, 
that  "  the  first  night's  camping  would  be  a  drencher."  In 
the  West  a  black  bank  of  cloud  was  blotting  out  the  sun 
before  his  time.  North-east  shone  bare  fields  of  blue  lightly 
touched  with  loose-floating  strips  and  flakes  of  crimson 
vapour.  The  furrows  were  growing  purple-dark,  and  grad- 
ually a  low  moaning  obscurity  enwrapped  the  whole  line, 
and  muffled  the  noise  of  hoof,  oath,  and  waggon-wheel  in  one 
sullen  murmur. 

Guy  felt  very  much  like  a  chopped  worm,  as  he  wriggled 
his  way  onward  in  the  dusk,  impelled  from  the  rear,  and 
reduced  to  grope  after  the  main  body.  Frequent  and  deep 
counsel  he  took  with  a  trusty  flask  suspended  at  his  belt. 
It  was  no  pleasant  reflection  that  the  rain  would  be  down 
before  he  could  build  up  anything  like  shelter  for  horse 
and  man.  Still  sadder  the  necessity  of  selecting  his  post 
on  strange  ground,  and  in  darkness.  He  kept  an  anxious 
look-out  for  the  moon,  and  was  presently  rejoiced  to  behold 
a  broad  fire  that  twinkled  branchy  beams  through  an  east- 
hill  orchard. 

"  My  lord  calls  her  Goddess,"  said  Guy,  wistfully.  "  The 
title 's  outlandish,  and  more  the  style  of  these  foreigners : 
but  she  may  have  it  to-night,  an  she  '11  just  keep  the  storm 
from  shrouding  her  bright  eye  a  matter  of  two  hours." 

She  rose  with  a  boding  lustre.  Drifts  of  thin  pale  upper- 
cloud  leaned  down  ladders,  pure  as  virgin  silver,  for  her  to 
£lirnb  to  her  highest  seat  on  the  unrebellious  half-circle  of 
heaven. 

"My  mind  's  made  up!  "  quoth  Guy  to  the  listening  part 
of  himself.     "  Out  of  this  I  '11  get." 

By  the  clearer  ray  he  had  discerned  a  narrow  track  run- 
ning a  white  parallel  with  the  general  route.  At  the  ex- 
pense of  dislocating  a  mile  of  the  cavalcade,  he  struck  into 
it.  A  dyke  had  to  be  taken,  some  heavy  fallows  crossed, 
and  the  way  was  straight  before  him.  He  began  to  sneer  at 
the  slow  jog-trot  and  absence  of  enterprise  which  made  the 
fellows  he  had  left  shine  so  poorly  in  comparison  with  the 
Goshawk,  but  a  sight  of  two  cavaliers  in  advance  checked 


THE   RIDE   AND  THE   RACE  215 

his  vanity,  and  now  to  overtake  them  he  tasked  his  fat 
Flemish  mare  with  unwonted  pricks  of  th3  heel,  that  made, 
her  fling  out  and  show  more  mettle  than  speed. 

The  objects  of  this  fiery  chase  did  not  at  first  awake  to 
a  sense  of  being  pursued.  Both  rode  with  mantled  visages, 
and  appeared  profoundly  inattentive  to  the  world  outside 
their  meditations.  But  the  Goshawk  was  not  to  be  denied, 
and  by  dint  of  alternately  roaring  at  them  and  upbraiding 
his  two  stumping  beasts,  he  at  last  roused  the  younger  of 
the  cavaliers,  who  called  to  his  companion  loudly :  without 
effect  it  seemed,  for  he  had  to  repeat  the  warning.  Guy 
was  close  up  with  them,  when  the  youth  exclaimed  : 
"  Father!  holy  father!  'T  is  Sathanas  in  person!  " 
The  other  rose  and  pointed  trembling  to  a  dark  point  in 
the  distance  as  he  vociferated  : 

"Not  here!  not  here;  but  yonder!  " 
Guy  recognized  the  voice  of  the  first  speaker,  and  cried : 
"  Stay !  halt  a  second !  Have  you  forgotten  the  Goshawk  ?  " 
"Never!  "  came  the  reply,  "and  forget  not  Farina!" 
Spur  and  fleeter  steeds  carried  them  out  of  hearing  ere 
Guy  could  throw  in  another  syllable.     Farina  gazed  back 
on  him  remorsefully,  but  the  Monk  now  rated  his  assistant 
with  indignation. 

"Thou  weak  one!  nothing  less  than  fool!  to  betray  thy 
name  on  such  an  adventure  as  this  to  soul  save  the  saints! " 
Farina  tossed  back  his  locks,  and  held  his  forehead  to 
the  moon.  All  the  Monk's  ghostly  wrath  was  foiled  by 
the  one  little  last  sweet  word  of  his  beloved,  which  made 
music  in  his  ears  whenever  annoyance  sounded. 

"And  herein,"  say  the  old  writers,  "are  lovers,  who  love 
truly,  truly  recompensed  for  their  toils  and  pains ;  in  that 
love,  for  which  they  suffer,  is  ever  present  to  ward  away 
suffering  not  sprung  of  love :  but  the  disloyal,  who  serve  not 
love  faithfully,  are  a  race  given  over  to  whatso  this  base 
world  can  wreak  upon  them,  without  consolation  or  com- 
fort of  their  mistress,  Love ;  whom  sacrificing  not  all  to. 
they  know  not  to  delight  in." 

The  soul  of  a  lover  lives  through  every  member  of  him 
in  the  joy  of  a  moonlight  ride.  Sorrow  and  grief  are  slow 
distempers  that  crouch  from  the  breeze,  and  nourish  their 
natures  far  from  swift-moving  things.     A  true  lover  is  not 


216  FARINA 

one  of  those  melancholy  flies  that  shoot  and  maze  over 
muddy  stagnant  pools.  He  must  be  up  in  the  great  air. 
He  must  strike  all  the  strings  of  life.  Swiftness  is  his 
rapture.  In  his  wide  arms  he  embraces  the  whole  form 
of  beauty.  Eagle-like  are  his  instincts ;  dove-like  his  de- 
sires. Then  the  fair  moon  is  the  very  presence  of  his 
betrothed  in  heaven.  So  for  hours  rode  Farina  in  a  silver- 
fleeting  glory ;  while  the  Monk,  as  a  shadow,  galloped 
stern  and  silent  beside  him.  So,  crowning  them  in  the 
sky,  one  half  was  all  love  and  light;  one,  blackness  and 
fell  purpose. 


THE   COMBAT  ON  DRACHENFELS 

Not  to  earth  was  vouchsafed  the  honour  of  commencing 
the  great  battle  of  that  night.  By  an  expiring  blue-shot 
beam  of  moonlight,  Farina  beheld  a  vast  realm  of  gloom 
filling  the  hollow  of  the  West,  and  the  moon  was  soon  ex- 
tinguished behind  sluggish  scraps  of  iron  scud  detached 
from  the  swinging  bulk  of  ruin,  as  heavily  it  ground  on  the 
atmosphere  in  the  first  thunder-launch  of  motion. 

The  heart  of  the  youth  was  strong,  but  he  could  not  view 
without  quicker  fawning  throbs  this  manifestation  of  im- 
measurable power,  which  seemed  as  if  with  a  stroke  it  was 
capable  of  destroying  creation  and  the  works  of  man.  The 
bare  aspect  of  the  tempest  lent  terrors  to  the  adventure 
he  was  engaged  in,  and  of  which  he  knew  not  the  aim,  nor 
might  forecast  the  issue.  Now  there  was  nothing  to  il- 
lumine their  path  but  such  forked  flashes  as  lightning  threw 
them  at  intervals,  touching  here  a  hill  with  clustered  cottages, 
striking  into  day  there  a  May-blossom,  a  patch  of  weed,  a 
single  tree  by  the  wayside.  Suddenly  a  more  vivid  and 
continuous  quiver  of  violet  fire  met  its  reflection  on  the 
landscape,  and  Farina  saw  the  Rhine-stream  beneath  him. 

"  On  such  a  night,"  thought  he,  "  Siegfried  fought  and 
slew  the  dragon!  " 

A  blast  of  light,  as  from  the  jaws  of  the  defeated  dragon 
in  his  throes,  made  known  to  him  the  country  he  traversed. 
Crimsoned  above  the  water  .glimmered  the  monster-haunted 


THE  COMBAT  ON  DBACHENFELS        217 

rock  itself,  and  mid-channel  beyond,  flat  and  black  to  the 
stream,  stretched  the  Nuns'  Isle  in  cloistral  peace. 

"Halt!"  cried  the  Monk,  and  signaled  with  a  peculiar 
whistle,  to  which  he  seemed  breathlessly  awaiting  an  an- 
swer. They  were  immediately  surrounded  by  long-robed 
veiled  figures. 

"  Not  too  late  ?  "  the  Monk  hoarsely  asked  of  them. 

"  Yet  an  hour ! "  was  the  reply,  in  soft  clear  tones  of  a 
woman's  voice. 

"  Great  strength  and  valour  more  than  human  be  mine," 
exclaimed  the  Monk,  dismounting. 

He  passed  apart  from  them ;  and  they  drew  in  a  circle, 
while  he  prayed,  kneeling. 

Presently  he  returned,  and  led  Farina  to  a  bank,  drawing 
from  some  hiding-place  a  book  and  a  bell,  which  he  gave 
into  the  hands  of  the  youth. 

"  For  thy  soul,  no  word !  "  said  the  Monk,  speaking  down 
his  throat  as  he  took  in  breath.  "Nay!  not  in  answer  to 
me !  Be  faithful,  and  more  than  earthly  fortune  is  thine  ; 
for  I  say  unto  thee,  I  shall  not  fail,  having  grace  to  sustain 
this  combat." 

Thereupon  he  commenced  the  ascent  of  Drachenfels. 

Farina  followed.  He  had  no  hint  of  the  Monk's  mission, 
nor  of  the  part  himself  was  to  play  in  it.  Such  a  load  of 
silence  gathered  on  his  questioning  spirit,  that  the  outcry 
of  the  raging  elements  alone  prevented  him  from  arresting 
the  Monk  and  demanding  the  end  of  his  service  there. 
That  outcry  was  enough  to  freeze  speech  on  the  very  lips 
of  a  mortal.  For  scarce  had  they  got  footing  on  the  wind- 
ing path  of  the  crags,  when  the  whole  vengeance  of  the 
storm  was  hurled  against  the  mountain.  Huge  boulders 
were  loosened  and  came  bowling  from  above :  trees  torn 
by  their  roots  from  the  fissures  whizzed  on  the  eddies  of 
the  wind :  torrents  of  rain  foamed  down  the  iron  flanks  of 
rock,  and  flew  off  in  hoar  feathers  against  the  short  pauses 
of  darkness  :  the  mountain  heaved,  and  quaked,  and  yawned 
a  succession  of  hideous  chasms. 

"  There  's  a  devil  in  this,"  thought  Farina.  He  looked 
back  and  marked  the  river  imaging  lurid  abysses  of  cloud 
above  the  mountain-summit  —  yea!  and  on  the  summit  a 
flaming  shape  was  mirrored. 


218  FARINA 

Two  nervous  hands  stayed  the  cry  on  his  mouth. 

"  Have  I  not  warned  thee  ?  "  said  the  husky  voice  of  the 
Monk.  "I  may  well  watch,  and  think  for  thee  as  for  a 
dog.     Be  thou  as  faithful !  " 

He  handed  a  flask  to  the  youth,  and  bade  him  drink. 
Farina  drank  and  felt  richly  invigorated.  The  Monk  then 
took  bell  and  book. 

"  But  half-an-hour, "  he  muttered,  "  for  this  combat  that 
is  to  ring  through  centuries." 

Crossing  himself,  he  strode  wildly  upward.  Farina  saw 
him  beckon  back  once,  and  the  next  instant  he  was  lost 
round  an  incline  of  the  highest  peak. 

The  wind  that  had  just  screamed  a  thousand  death- 
screams,  was  now  awfully  dumb,  albeit  Farina  could  feel 
it  lifting  hood  and  hair.  In  the  unnatural  stillness  his 
ear  received  tones  of  a  hymn  chanted  below;  now  sinking, 
now  swelling;  as  though  the  voices  faltered  between 
prayer  and  inspiration.  Farina  caught  on  a  projection  of 
crag,  and  fixed  his  eyes  on  what  was  passing  on  the 
height. 

There  was  the  Monk  in  his  brown  hood  and  wrapper, 
confronting  —  if  he  might  trust  his  balls  of  sight  —  the 
red-hot  figure  of  the  Prince  of  Darkness. 

As  yet  no  mortal  tussle  had  taken  place  between  them. 
They  were  arguing:  angrily,  it  was  true:  yet  with  the  first 
mutual  deference  of  practiced  logicians.  Latin  and  Ger- 
man was  alternately  employed  by  both.  It  thrilled 
Farina's  fervid  love  of  fatherland  to  hear  the  German  Satan 
spoke :  but  his  Latin  was  good,  and  his  command  over  that 
tongue  remarkable;  for,  getting  the  worst  of  the  argument, 
as  usual,  he  revenged  himself  by  parodying  one  of  the 
Church  canticles  with  a  point  that  discomposed  his  adver- 
sary, and  caused  him  to  retreat  a  step,  claiming  support 
against  such  shrewd  assault. 

'  The  use  of  an  unexpected  weapon  in  warfare  is  in  itself 
half  a  victory.  Induce  your  antagonist  to  employ  it  as  a 
match  for  you,  and  reckon  on  completely  routing  him  .  .  . ' 
says  the  old  military  chronicle. 

"Come!"  said  the  Demon  with  easy  raillery.  "You 
know  your  game  —  I  mine !  I  really  want  the  good  people 
to   be   hapoy;    dancing,   kissing,    propagating,    what  you 


THE  COMBAT  ON  DRACHENFELS  219 

will.  We  quite  agree.  You  can  have  no  objection  to  me, 
but  a  foolish  old  prejudice  —  not  personal,  but  class;  an 
antipathy  of  the  cowl,  for  which  I  pardon  you !  What  I 
should  find  in  you  to  complain  of  —  1  have  only  to  mention 
it,  I  am  sure  —  is,  that  perhaps  you  do  speak  a  little  too 
much  through  your  nose." 

The  Monk  did  not  fall  into  the  jocular  trap  by  retorting 
in  the  same  strain. 

1  Laugh  with  the  Devil,  and  you  won't  laugh  longest,7 
says  the  proverb. 

Keeping  to  his  own  arms,  the  holy  man  frowned. 

"  Avaunt,  Fiend !  "  he  cried.  "  To  thy  kingdom  below ! 
Thou  hast  raged  over  earth  a  month,  causing  blights,  hur- 
ricanes, and  epidemics  of  the  deadly  sins.  Parley  no 
more !     Begone  !  —  " 

The  Demon  smiled :  the  corners  of  his  mouth  ran  up  to 
his  ears,  and  his  eyes  slid  down  almost  into  one. 

"  Still  through  the  nose ! "  said  he  reproachfully. 

"  I  give  thee  Five  Minutes !  "  cried  the  Monk. 

"  I  had  hoped  for  a  longer  colloquy, "  sighed  the  Demon, 
jogging  his  left  leg  and  trifling  with  his  tail. 

"One  Minute!  "  exclaimed  the  Monk. 

"Truly  so!  "  said  the  Demon.  "I  know  Old  Time  and 
his  habits  better  than  you  really  can.  We  meet  every 
Saturday  night,  and  communicate  our  best  jokes.  I  keep 
a  book  of  them  Down  There !  " 

And  as  if  he  had  reason  to  remember  the  pavement  of 
his  Halls,  he  stood  tiptoe  and  whipped  up  his  legs. 

"Two  Minutes!" 

The  Demon  waved  perfect  acquiescence,  and  continued : 
''We  understand  each  other,  he  and  I.  All  Old  Ones  do. 
As  long  as  he  lasts,  I  shall.  The  thing  that  surprises 
me  is,  that  you  and  I  cannot  agree,  similar  as  we  are  Y 
temperament,  and  playing  for  the  long  odds,  both  of  us. 
My  failure  is,  perhaps,  too  great  a  passion  for  sport,  ahai 
Well,  't  is  a  pity  you  won't  try  and  live  on  the  benevolent 
principle.  I  am  indeed  kind  to  them  who  commiserate  my 
condition.  I  give  them  all  they  want,  aha!  Hem!  Try 
and  not  believe  in  me  now,  aha!  Ho!  .  .  .  Can't  you? 
What  are  eyes  ?  Persuade  yourself  you  're  dreaming. 
vou   can   do   anything  with   a  mind   like  yours,    Father 


220  FARINA 

Gregory!  And  consider  the  luxury  of  getting  me  out  of 
the  way  so  easily,  as  many  do.  It  is  my  finest  suggestion, 
aha!  Generally  I  myself  nudge  their  ribs  with  the  capital 
idea —  You  're  above  bribes  ?    I  was  going  to  observe  —  " 

"Three!" 
—  "Observe,  that  if  you  care  for  worldly  honours,  I  can 
smother  you  with  that  kind  of  thing.  Several  of  your 
first-rate  people  made  a  bargain  with  me  when  they  were 
in  the  fog,  and  owe  me  a  trifle.  Patronage  they  call  it. 
I  hook  the  high  and  the  low.  Too-little  and  too-much 
serve  me  better  than  Beelzebub.  A  weak  stomach  is  cer- 
tainly more  carnally  virtuous  than  a  full  one.  Conse- 
quently my  kingdom  is  becoming  too  respectable.  They  've 
all  got  titles,  and  object  to  being  asked  to  poke  the  fire 
without  —  Honourable  -and-  with  -  Exceeding  -  Brightness- 
Beaming  Baroness  This!  Admirably -Benignant-Down- 
looking  Highness  That!  Interrupts  business,  especially 
when  you  have  to  ask  them  to  fry  themselves,  according 
to  the  rules  .  .  .  Would  you  like  Mainz  and  the  Bheingau  ? 
.  .  .  You  don't  care  for  Beauty  —  Puella,  Puellse  ?  I  have 
plenty  of  them,  too,  below.  The  Historical  Beauties 
warmed  up  at  a  moment's  notice.  Modern  ones  made 
famous  between  morning  and  night  —  Fame  is  the  sauce 
of  Beauty.     Or,  no  —  eh  ?  " 

"Four!" 

"  Not  quite  so  fast,  if  you  please.  You  want  me  gone. 
Now,  where  's  your  charity  ?  Do  you  ask  me  to  be  always 
raking  up  those  poor  devils  underneath  ?  While  I  'm  here, 
they  've  a  respite.  They  cannot  think  you  kind,  Father 
Gregory !  As  for  the  harm,  you  see,  I  'm  not  the  more 
agreeable  by  being  face  to  face  with  you  —  though  some 
fair  dames  do  take  to  my  person  monstrously.  The  secret 
is,  the  quantity  of  small  talk  I  can  command :  that  makes 
them  forget  my  smell,  which  is,  I  confess,  abominable, 
displeasing  to  myself,  and  my  worst  curse.  Your  sort, 
Father  Gregory,  are  somewhat  unpleasant  in  that  partic- 
ular —  if  I  may  judge  by  their  Legate  here.  Well,  try 
small  talk.  They  would  fall  desperately  in  love  with 
polecats  and  skunks  if  endowed  with  small  talk.  Why, 
they  have  become  enamoured  of  monks  before  now  I  If 
skunks,  why  not  monks  ?     And  again  — " 


THE  COMBAT  ON  DRACHENFELS        221 

"Five!" 

Having  solemnly  bellowed  this  tremendous  number,  the 
holy  man  lifted  his  arms  to  begin  the  combat. 

Farina  felt  his  nerves  prick  with  admiration  of  the 
ghostly  warrior  daring  the  Second  Power  of  Creation  on 
that  lonely  mountain-top.  He  expected,  and  shuddered  at 
thought  of  the  most  awful  fight  ever  yet  chronicled  of  those 
that  have  taken  place  between  heroes  and  the  hounds  of 
evil :  but  his  astonishment  was  great  to  hear  the  Demon, 
while  Bell  was  in  air  and  Book  aloft,  retreat,  shouting, 
"Hold!" 

"  I  surrender,"  said  he,  sullenly.     "  What  terms  ?  " 

"  Instantaneous  riddance  of  thee  from  face  of  earth." 

"Good!  —  Now,"  said  the  Demon,  "did  you  suppose  I 
was  to  be  trapped  into  a  fight  ?  No  doubt  you  wish  to 
become  a  saint,  and  have  everybody  talking  of  my  last 
defeat.  .  .  .  Pictures,  poems,  processions,  with  the  Devil 
downmost!     No.     You  're  more  than  a  match  for  me." 

"Silence,  Darkness!"  thundered  the  Monk,  "and  think 
not  to  vanquish  thy  victor  by  flatteries.     Begone! " 

And  again  he  towered  in  his  wrath. 

The  Demon  drew  his  tail  between  his  legs,  and  threw  the 
forked,  fleshy,  quivering  end  over  his  shoulder.  He  then 
nodded  cheerfully,  pointed  his  feet,  and  finicked  a  few 
steps  away,  saying:  "I  hope  we  shall  meet  again." 

Upon  that  he  shot  out  his  wings,  that  were  like  the  fins 
of  the  wyver-fish,  sharpened  in  venomous  points. 

"  Commands  for  your  people  below  ?  "  he  inquired,  leer- 
ing with  chin  awry.  "Desperate  ruffians  some  of  those 
cowls.     You  are  right  not  to  acknowledge  them." 

Farina  beheld  the  holy  man  in  no  mood  to  let  the  Enemy 
tamper  with  him  longer. 

The  Demon  was  influenced  by  a  like  reflection;  for, 
saying,  "Cologne  is  the  city  your  Holiness  inhabits,  I 
think  ? "  he  shot  up  rocket-like  over  Rhineland,  striking 
the  entire  length  of  the  stream,  and  its  rough-bearded 
castle-crests,  slate-ledges,  bramble-clefts,  vine-slopes,  and 
haunted  valleys,  with  one  brimstone  flash.  Frankfort  and 
the  far  Main  saw  him  and  reddened.  Ancient  Trier  and 
Mosel;  Heidelberg  and  Neckar;  Limberg  and  Lahn,  ran 
guilty  of  him.     And  the  swift  artery  of  these  shining 


222  FARINA 

veins,  Rhine,  from  his  snow  cradle  to  his  salt  decease, 
glimmered  Stygian  horrors  as  the  Infernal  Comet  sprung 
over  Bonn,  sparkled  a  fiery  minute  along  the  face  of  the 
stream,  and  vanished,  leaving  a  seam  of  ragged  flame 
trailed  on  the  midnight  heavens. 

Farina  breathed  hard  through  his  teeth. 

"The  last  of  him  was  awful,"  said  he,  coming  forward  to 
where  the  Monk  knelt  and  grasped  his  breviary,  "  but  he 
was  vanquished  easily." 

"Easily?"  exclaimed  the  holy  man,  gasping  satisfac- 
tion :  "  thou  weakling !  is  it  for  thee  to  measure  difficulties, 
or  estimate  powers  ?  Easily  ?  thou  worldling!  and  so  are 
great  deeds  judged  when  the  danger  's  past!  And  what  am 
I  but  the  humble  instrument  that  brought  about  this  won- 
drous conquest!  the  poor  tool  of  this  astounding  triumph! 
Shall  the  sword  say,  This  is  the  battle  I  won!  Yonder  the 
enemy  I  overthrew!  Bow  to  me,  ye  lords  of  earth,  and 
worshippers  of  mighty  acts  ?  Not  so!  Nay,  but  the  sword 
is  honoured  in  the  hero's  grasp,  and  if  it  break  not,  it  is 
accounted  trusty.  This,  then,  this  little  I  may  claim,  that 
I  was  trusty !  Trusty  in  a  heroic  encounter !  Trusty  in  a 
battle  with  earth's  terror!  Oh!  but  this  must  not  be  said. 
This  is  to  think  too  much!  This  is  to  be  more  than  aught 
yet  achieved  by  man !  " 

The  holy  warrior  crossed  his  arms,  and  gently  bowed 
his  head. 

"Take  me  to  the  Sisters,"  he  said.  "The  spirit  has 
gone  out  of  me !     I  am  faint,  and  as  a  child ! " 

Farina  asked,  and  had,  his  blessing. 

"  And  with  it  my  thanks !  "  said  the  Monk.  "  Thou  hast 
witnessed  how  he  can  be  overcome!  Thou  hast  looked 
upon  a  scene  that  will  be  the  glory  of  Christendom!  Thou 
hast  beheld  the  discomfiture  of  Darkness  before  the  voice 
of  Light!  Yet  think  not  much  of  me:  account  me  little  in 
this  matter!  I  am  but  an  instrument!  but  an  instrument! 
—  and  again,  but  an  instrument!  " 

Farina  drew  the  arms  of  the  holy  combatant  across  his 
shoulders  and  descended  Drachenfels. 

The  tempest  was  as  a  forgotten  anguish.  Bright  with 
maiden  splendour  shone  the  moon;  and  the  old  rocks, 
cherished  in  her  beams,  put  up  their  horns  to  blue  heaven 


THE  COMBAT  ON  DRACHEKFELS        223 

once  more.  All  the  leafage  of  the  land  shook  as  to  shake 
off  a  wicked  dream,  and  shuddered  from  time  to  time, 
whispering  of  old  fears  quieted,  and  present  peace.  The 
heart  of  the  river  fondled  with  the  image  of  the  moon  in 
its  depths. 

"This  is  much  to  have  won  for  earth,"  murmured  the 
Monk.  "  And  what  is  life,  or  who  would  not  risk  all,  to 
snatch  such  loveliness  from  the  talons  of  the  Fiend,  the 
Arch-foe  ?     Yet,  not  I!  not  I!  say  not,  'twas  I  did  this!  " 

Soft  praises  of  melody  ascended  to  them  on  the  moist 
fragrance  of  air.     It  was  the  hymn  of  the  Sisters. 

"How  sweet!  "  murmured  the  Monk.  "Put  it  from  me! 
away  with  it! " 

Kising  on  Farina's  back  and  stirruping  his  feet  on  the 
thighs  of  the  youth,  he  cried  aloud :  "  I  charge  ye,  whoso 
ye  be,  sing  not  this  deed  before  the  emperor!  By  the 
breath  of  your  nostrils,  pause!  ere  ye  whisper  aught  of 
the  combat  of  Saint  Gregory  with  Satan,  and  his  vic- 
tory, and  the  marvel  of  it,  while  he  liveth;  for  he  would 
die  the  humble  monk  he  is." 

He  resumed  his  seat,  and  Farina  brought  him  into  the 
circle  of  the  Sisters.  Those  pure  women  took  him,  and 
smoothed  him,  lamenting,  and  filling  the  night  with 
triumphing  tones. 

Farina  stood  apart. 

"The  breeze  tells  of  dawn,"  said  the  Monk;  "we  must 
be  in  Cologne  before  broad  day." 

They  mounted  horse,  and  the  Sisters  grouped  and  rever- 
enced under  the  blessing  of  the  Monk. 

"No  word  of  it! "  said  the  Monk  warningly. 

"We  are  silent,  Father!"  they  answered. 

"Cologne-ward!"  was  then  his  cry,  and  away  he  and 
Farina  flew. 


224  FARINA 


THE   GOSHAWK  LEADS 

Morning  was  among  the  gray  eastern  clouds  as  they  rode 
upon  the  camp  hastily  formed  to  meet  the  Kaiser.  All 
there  was  in  a  wallow  of  confusion.  Fierce  struggles  for 
precedence  still  went  on  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
imperial  tent  ground,  where,  under  the  standard  of  Ger- 
many, lounged  some  veterans  of  the  Kaiser's  guard,  calmly 
watching  the  scramble.  Up  to  the  edge  of  the  cultivated 
land  nothing  was  to  be  seen  but  brawling  clumps  of  war- 
riors asserting  the  superior  claims  of  their  respective  lords. 
Variously  and  hotly  disputed  were  these  claims,  as  many 
red  coxcombs  testified.  Across  that  point  where  the  green 
field  flourished,  not  a  foot  was  set,  for  the  Kaiser's  care  of 
the  farmer,  and  affection  for  good  harvests,  made  itself 
respected  even  in  the  heat  of  those  jealous  rivalries.  It 
was  said  of  him,  that  he  would  have  camped  in  a  bog,  or 
taken  quarters  in  a  cathedral,  rather  than  trample  down 
a  green  blade  of  wheat,  or  turn  over  one  vine-pole  in  the 
empire.  Hence  the  presence  of  Kaiser  Heinrich  was 
never  hailed  as  Egypt's  plague  by  the  peasantry,  but  wel- 
come as  the  May  month  wherever  he  went. 

Father  Gregory  and  Farina  found  themselves  in  the  cen- 
tre of  a  group  ere  they  drew  rein,  and  a  cry  rose,  "  The  good 
father  shall  decide,  and  all's  fair,"  followed  by,  "Agreed! 
Hail  and  tempest!  he  's  dropped  down  o'  purpose." 

"  Father, "  said  one,  "  here  it  is !  I  say  I  saw  the  Devil 
himself  fly  off  Drachenfels,  and  flop  into  Cologne.  Fritz 
here,  and  Frankenbauch,  saw  him  too.  They  '11  swear  to 
him:  so '11  I.  Hell's  thunder!  will  we.  Yonder  fellows 
will  have  it  't  was  a  flash  o'  lightning,  as  if  I  did  n't  see 
him,  horns,  tail,  and  claws,  and  a  mighty  sight  't  was,  as 
I'm  a  sinner." 

A  clash  of  voices,  for  the  Devil  and  against  him,  burst 
on  this  accurate  description  of  the  Evil  spirit.  The  Monk 
sank  his  neck  into  his  chest. 

"Gladly  would  I  hold  silence  on  this,  my  sons,"  said 
he,  in  a  supplicating  voice. 


THE   GOSHAWK  LEADS  225 

"Speak,  Father,"  cried  the  first  spokesman,  gathering 
courage  from  the  looks  of  the  Monk. 

Father  Gregory  appeared  to  commune  with  himself 
deeply.  At  last,  lifting  his  head,  and  murmuring,  "It 
must  be,"  he  said  aloud: 

" 'T was  verily  Satan,  O  my  sons!  Him  this  night  in 
mortal  combat  1  encountered  and  overcame  on  the  summit 
of  Drachenfels,  before  the  eyes  of  this  youth;  and  from 
Satan  I  this  night  deliver  ye!  an  instrument  herein  as 
in  all  other." 

Shouts,  and  a  far-spreading  buzz  resounded  in  the  camp. 
Hundreds  had  now  seen  Satan  flying  off  the  Drachenstein. 
Father  Gregory  could  no  longer  hope  to  escape  from  the 
importunate  crowds  that  beset  him  for  particulars.  The 
much-contested  point  now  was,  as  to  the  exact  position  of 
Satan's  tail  during  his  airy  circuit,  before  descending  into 
Cologne.  It  lashed  like  a  lion's.  'Twas  cocked,  for  cer- 
tain !  He  sneaked  it  between  his  legs  like  a  lurcher !  He 
made  it  stumpy  as  a  brown  bear's !  He  carried  it  upright 
as  a  pike! 

"  0  my  sons !  have  I  sown  dissension  ?  Have  I  not  given 
ye  peace  ?  "  exclaimed  the  Monk. 

But  they  continued  to  discuss  it  with  increasing  frenzy ._ 

Farina  cast  a  glance  over  the  tumult,  and  beheld  his 
friend  Guy  beckoning  earnestly.  He  had  no  difficulty  in 
getting  away  to  him,  as  the  fetters  of  all  eyes  were  on  the 
Monk  alone. 

The  Goshawk  was  stamping  with  excitement. 

"Not  a  moment  to  be  lost,  my  lad,"  said  Guy,  catching 
his  arm.  "  Here,  I  've  had  half-a-dozen  fights  already  for 
this  bit  of  ground.  Do  you  know  that  fellow  squatting 
there  ?  " 

Farina  beheld  the  Thier  at  the  entrance  of  a  tumble-down 
tent.     He  was  ruefully  rubbing  a  broken  head. 

"Now,"  continued  Guy,  "to  mount  him  is  the  thing; 
and  then  after  the  wolves  of  Werner  as  fast  as  horse-flesh 
can  carry  us.  No  questions !  Bound,  are  you  ?  And 
what  am  I  ?     But  this  is  life  and  death,  lad!     Hark!  " 

The  Goshawk  whispered  something  that  sucked  the 
blood  out  of  Farina's  cheek. 

"Look  you  —  what's  your  lockjaw  name?    Keep  good 


126  FARINA 

faith  with  me,  and  you  shall  have  your  revenge,  and  the 
shiners  I  promise,  besides  my  lord's  interest  for  a  better 
master:  but,  sharp!  we  won't  mount  till  we're  out  of 
sight  o'  the  hell-scum  you  horde  with." 

The  Thier  stood  up  and  staggered  after  them  through  the 
camp.  There  was  no  difficulty  in  mounting  him:  horses 
were  loose,  and  scamperiDg  about  the  country,  not  yet 
delivered  from  their  terrors  of  the  last  night's  tempest. 

"  Here  be  we,  three  good  men ! "  exclaimed  Guy,  when 
they  were  started,  and  Farina  had  hurriedly  given  him  the 
heads  of  his  adventure  with  the  Monk.  "  Three  good  men! 
One  has  helped  to  kick  the  devil:  one  has  served  an 
apprenticeship  to  his  limb :  and  one  is  ready  to  meet  him 
foot  to  foot  any  day,  which  last  should  be  myself.  Not  a 
man  more  do  we  want,  though  it  were  to  fish  up  that 
treasure  you  talk  of  being  under  the  Rhine  there,  and 
guarded  by  I  don't  know  how  many  tricksy  little  villains. 
Horses  can  be  ferried  across  at  Linz,  you  say  ?  " 

"Ay,  thereabout,"  grunted  the  Thier. 

"  We  '  re  on  the  right  road,  then !  "  said  Guy.  "  Thanks  to 
you  both,  I  've  had  no  sleep  for  two  nights  —  not  a  wink, 
and  must  snatch  it  going  —  not  the  first  time." 

The  Goshawk  bent  his  body,  and  spoke  no  more.  Farina 
could  not  get  a  word  further  from  him.  By  the  mastery  he 
still  had  over  his  rein,  the  Goshawk  alone  proved  that  he 
was  of  the  world  of  the  living.  Schwartz  Thier,  rendered 
either  sullen  or  stunned  by  the  latest  cracked  crown  he  had 
received,  held  his  jaws  close  as  if  they  had  been  nailed. 

At  Linz  the  horses  were  well  breathed.  The  Goshawk, 
who  had  been  snoring  an  instant  before,  examined  them 
keenly,  and  shook  his  calculating  head. 

"Punch  that  beast  of  yours  in  the  ribs,"  said  he  to 
Farina.  "Ah!  not  a  yard  of  wind  in  him.  And  there's 
the  coming  back,  when  we  shall  have  more  to  carry.  Well : 
this  is  my  lord's  money;  but  i'  faith,  it's  going  in  a  good 
cause,  and  Master  Groschen  will  make  it  all  right,  no  doubt; 
not  a  doubt  of  it." 

The  Goshawk  had  seen  some  excellent  beasts  in  the 
stables  of  the  Kaiser's  Krone;  but  the  landlord  would 
make  no  exchange  without  an  advance  of  silver.  This 
done,  the  arrangement  was  prompt. 


THE  GOSHAWK  LEADS  227 

"  Schwartz  Thier !  —  I  've  got  your  name  now,"  said  Guy, 
as  they  were  ferrying  across,  "you're  stiff  certain  they 
left  Cologne  with  the  maiden  yesternoon,  now  ? " 

"  Ah,  did  they !  and  she  's  at  the  Eck  safe  enow  by  this 
time." 

"  And  away  from  the  Eck  this  night  she  shall  come,  trust 
me!" 

"  Or  there  will  I  die  with  her !  "  cried  Farina. 

"Fifteen  men  at  most,  he  has,  you  said,"  continued 
Guy.  "Two  not  sound,  five  true  as  steel,  and  the  rest 
shilly-shally.  'Slife,  one  lock  loose  serves  us;  but  two 
saves  us :  five  we  're  a  match  for,  throwing  in  bluff  Baron ; 
the  remainder  go  with  victory." 

"  Can  we  trust  this  fellow  ?  "  whispered  Farina. 

"  Trust  him !  "  roared  Guy.  "  Why,  I  've  thumped  him, 
lad;  pegged  and  pardoned  him.  Trust  him?  trust  me! 
If  Werner  catches  a  sight  of  that  snout  of  his  within 
half-a-mile  of  his  hold,  he'll  roast  him  alive." 

He  lowered  his  voice :  "  Trust  him  ?  We  can  do  nothing 
without  him.  I  knocked  the  devil  out  of  him  early  this 
morning.  No  chance  for  his  Highness  anywhere  now. 
This  Eck  of  Werner's  would  stand  a  siege  from  the  Kaiser 
in  person,  I  hear.  We  must  into  it  like  weasels;  and  out 
as  we  can." 

Dismissing  the  ferry-barge  with  stern  injunctions  to  be 
in  waiting  from  noon  to  noon,  the  three  leapt  on  their 
fresh  nags. 

"  Stop  at  the  first  village, "  said  Guy ;  "  we  must  lay  in 
provision.  As  Master  Groschen  says,  '  Nothing  's  to  be 
done,  Turpin,  without  provender. '  " 

"  Goshawk !  "  cried  Farina ;  "  you  have  time ;  tell  me  how 
this  business  was  done." 

The  only  reply  was  a  soft  but  decided  snore,  that  spoke, 
like  a  voluptuous  trumpet,  of  dreamland  and  its  visions. 

At  Sinzig,  the  Thier  laid  his  hand  on  Guy's  bridle,  with 
the  words,  "Feed  here,"  a  brief,  but  effective,  form  of 
signal,  which  aroused  the  Goshawk  completely.  The  sign 
of  the  Trauben  received  them.  Here,  wurst  reeking  with 
garlic,  eggs,  black  bread,  and  sour  wine,  was  all  they 
could  procure.  Farina  refused  to  eat,  and  maintained  hi,s 
resolution,  in  spite  of  Guy's  sarcastic  chiding. 


228  FARINA 

"Rub  down  the  beasts,  then,  and  water  them,"  said  the 
latter.  "  Made  a  vow,  I  suppose, "  muttered  Guy.  "  That 's 
the  way  of  those  fellows.  No  upright  manly  take-the- 
thing-as-it-comes;  but  fly -sky-high  whenever  there  's  a  dash 
on  their  heaven.  What  has  his  belly  done  to  offend  him  ? 
It  will  be  crying  out  just  when  we  want  all  quiet.  I 
would  n't  pay  Werner  such  a  compliment  as  go  without  a 
breakfast  for  him.    Not  I !    Would  you,  Schwartz  Thier  ?  " 

"  Henker!  not  I!  "  growled  the  Thier.  "He  '11  lose  one 
sooner." 

"First  snatch  his  prey,  or  he  '11  be  making,  God  save  us! 
a  meal  for  a  Kaiser,  the  brute." 

Guy  called  in  the  landlady,  clapped  down  the  score,  and 
abused  the  wine. 

"Sir,"  said  the  landlady,  "ours  is  but  a  poor  inn,  and 
we  do  our  best." 

"So  you  do,"  replied  the  Goshawk,  softened;  "and  I 
say  that  a  civil  tongue  and  rosy  smiles  sweeten  even 
sour  wine." 

The  landlady,  a  summer  widow,  blushed,  and  as  he  was 
stepping  from  the  room,  called  him  aside. 

"I  thought  you  were  one  of  that  dreadful  Werner's 
band,  and  I  hate  him." 

Guy  undeceived  her. 

"He  took  my  sister,"  she  went  on,  "and  his  cruelty 
killed  her.  He  persecuted  me  even  in  the  lifetime  of  my 
good  man.  Last  night  he  came  here  in  the  middle  of  the 
storm  with  a  young  creature  bright  as  an  angel,  and 
sorrowful 


a 


1  He  's  gone,  you  're  sure  ?  "  broke  in  Guy. 

"  Gone !  Oh,  yes !  Soon  as  the  storm  abated  he  dragged 
her  on.  Oh !  the  way  that  young  thing  looked  at  me,  and 
I  able  to  do  nothing  for  her." 

"Now,  the  Lord  bless  you  for  a  rosy  Christian!  "  cried 
Guy,  and,  in  his  admiration,  he  flung  his  arm  round  her 
and  sealed  a  ringing  kiss  on  each  cheek. 

"No  good  man  defrauded  by  that!  and  let  me  see  the 
fellow  that  thinks  evil  of  it.  If  I  ever  told  a  woman  a 
secret,  I  'd  tell  you  one  now,  trust  me.  But  I  never  do,  so 
farewell !     Not  another  ?  " 

Hasty  times  keep  the   feelings  in  a  ferment,  and  the 


WERNER'S   ECK  22* 

landlady  was  extremely  angry  with  Guy  and   heartih  for- 
gave him,  all  within  a  minute. 

"No  more,"  said  she,  laughing:  "but  ivaitj  I  have 
something  for  you." 

The  Goshawk  lingered  on  a  fretting  heel.  She  was 
quickly  under  his  elbow  again  with  two  flasks  leaning  from 
her  bosom  to  her  arms. 

"  There !  I  seldom  meet  a  man  like  you ;  and,  when  I  do, 
I  like  to  be  remembered.  This  is  a  true  good  wine,  real 
Liebfrauenmilch,  which  I  only  give  to  choice  customers." 

"Welcome  it  is!"  sang  Guy  to  her  arch  looks ;  "but  I 
must  pay  for  it." 

"Not  a  pfennig!  "  said  the  landlady. 

"Not  one?" 

"  Not  one !  "  she  repeated,  with  a  stamp  of  the  foot. 

"In  other  coin,  then,"  quoth  Guy;  and  folding  her  waist, 
which  did  not  this  time  back  away,  the  favoured  Goshawl 
registered  rosy  payment  on  a  very  fresh  red  mouth,  receiv 
ing  in  return  such  lively  discount,  that  he  felt  himsek 
bound  in  conscience  to  make  up  the  full  sum  a  secoml 
time. 

"  What  a  man ! "  sighed  the  landlady,  as  she  watched  the 
Goshawk  lead  off  along  the  banks ;  "  courtly  as  a  knighv, 
open  as  a  squire,  and  gentle  as  a  page ! " 


WERNER'S   ECK 


A  league  behind  Andernach,  and  more  in  the  win»ry 
circle  of  the  sun  than  Laach,  its  convenient  monastic 
neighbour,  stood  the  castle  of  Werner,  the  Robber  Baron. 
Far  into  the  South,  hazy  with  afternoon  light,  a  yellow 
succession  of  sandhills  stretch  away,  spouting  fire  against 
the  blue  sky  of  an  elder  world,  but  now  dead  and  barren  of 
herbage.  Around  is  a  dusty  plain,  where  the  green  blades 
of  spring  no  sooner  peep  than  they  become  grimed  with 
sand  and  take  an  aged  look,  in  accordance  with  the  ungen- 
erous harvests  they  promise.  The  aridity  of  the  prospect 
is   relieved   on   one   side   by   the   lofty   woods  of  Laach, 


230  FARINA 

through  which  the  sun  setting  burns  golden-red,  and  on  the 
other  by  the  silver  sparkle  of  a  narrow  winding  stream, 
bordered  with  poplars,  and  seen  but  a  glistening  mile  of 
its  length  by  all  the  thirsty  hills.  The  Eck,  or  Corner, 
itself,  is  thick-set  with  wood,  but  of  a  stunted  growth,  and 
lying  like  a  dark  patch  on  the  landscape.  It  served,  how- 
ever, entirely  to  conceal  the  castle,  and  mask  every  move- 
ment of  the  wary  and  terrible  master.  A  trained  eye 
advancing  on  the  copse  would  hardly  mark  the  glimmer  of 
the  turrets  over  the  topmost  leaves,  but  to  every  loophole 
of  the  walls  lies  bare  the  circuit  of  the  land.  Werner 
could  rule  with  a  glance  the  Rhine's  course  down  from  the 
broad  rock  over  Coblentz  to  the  white  tower  of  Andernach. 
He  claimed  that  march  as  his  right;  but  the  Mosel  was  no 
hard  ride's  distance,  and  he  gratified  his  thirst  for  rapine 
chiefly  on  that  river,  delighting  in  it,  consequently,  as 
much  as  his  robber  nature  boiled  over  the  bound  of  his 
feudal  privileges. 

Often  had  the  Baron  held  his  own  against  sieges  and  re- 
strictions, bans  and  impositions  of  all  kinds.  He  boasted 
that  there  was  never  a  knight  within  twenty  miles  of  him 
that  he  had  not  beaten,  nor  monk  of  the  same  limit  not  in 
his  pay.  This  braggadocio  received  some  warrant  from 
his  yearly  increase  of  licence;  and  his  craft  and  his  castle 
combined,  made  him  a  notable  pest  of  the  region,  a  scandal 
to  the  abbey  whose  countenance  he  had,  and  a  frightful 
infliction  on  the  poorer  farmers  and  peasantry. 

The  sun  was  beginning  to  slope  over  Laach,  and  threw 
the  shadows  of  the  abbey-towers  half-way  across  the  blue 
lake-waters,  as  two  men  in  the  garb  of  husbandmen  emerged 
from  the  wood.  Their  feet  plunged  heavily  and  their  heads 
hung  down,  as  they  strode  beside  a  wain  mounted  with 
straw,  whistling  an  air  of  stupid  unconcern;  but  a  close 
listener  might  have  heard  that  the  lumbering  vehicle 
carried  a  human  voice  giving  them  directions  as  to  the 
road  they  were  to  take,  and  what  sort  of  behaviour  to 
observe  under  certain  events.  The  land  was  solitary.  A 
boor  passing  asked  whether  toll  or  tribute  they  were  con- 
veying to  Werner.  Tribute,  they  were  advised  to  reply, 
which  caused  him  to  shrug  and  curse  as  he  jogged  on. 
Hearing  him,   the   voice  in  the  wain  chuckled  grimly. 


Werner's  eck  231 

Their  next  speech  was  with  a  trooper,  who  overtook  them, 
and  wanted  to  know  what  they  had  in  the  wain  for  Werner. 
Tribute,  they  replied,  and  won  the  title  of  "brave  j>igs  " 
for  their  trouble. 

"  But  what 's  the  dish  made  of  ?"  said  the  trooper,  stirring 
the  straw  with  his  sword-point. 

"Tribute,"  came  the  answer. 

"Ha!  You've  not  been  to  Werner's  school,"  and  the 
trooper  swung  a  sword-stroke  at  the  taller  of  the  two, 
sending  a  tremendous  shudder  throughout  his  frame;  but 
he  held  his  head  to  the  ground,  and  only  seemed  to  betray 
animal  consciousness  in  leaning  his  ear  closer  to  the  wain. 

"Blood  and  storm!     Will  ye  speak  ?"  cried  the  trooper. 

"Never  talk  much;  but  an  ye  say  nothing  to  the  Baron," 
—  thrusting  his  hand  into  the  straw  —  "here's  what's 
better  than  speaking." 

"  Well  said!  — Eh  ?  Liebfrauenmilch  ?  Ho,  ho!  a  rare 
bleed!" 

Striking  the  neck  of  the  flask  on  a  wheel,  the  trooper  ap- 
plied it  to  his  mouth,  and  ceased  not  deeply  ingurgitating 
till  his  face  was  broad  to  the  sky  and  the  bottle  reversed. 
He  then  dashed  it  down,  sighed,  and  shook  himself. 

"Bare  news!  the  Kaiser's  come:  he  '11  be  in  Cologne  by 
night;  but  first  he  must  see  the  Baron,  and  I  'm  post  with 
the  order.  That 's  to  show  you  how  high  he  stands  in  the 
Kaiser's  grace.  Don't  be  thinking  of  upsetting  WTerner 
yet,  any  of  you;  mind,  now!  " 

"That's  Blass-Gesell,"  said  the  voice  in  the  wain,  as 
the  trooper  trotted  on :  adding,  "  'gainst  us." 

"Makes  six,"  responded  the  driver. 

Within  sight  of  the  Eck,  they  descried  another  trooper 
coming  toward  them.  This  time  the  driver  was  first  to 
speak. 

"Tribute!  Provender!  Bread  and  wine  for  the  high 
Baron  Werner  from  his  vassals  over  Tonnistein." 

"  And  I  'm  out  of  it!  fasting  like  a  winter  wolf,"  howled 
the  fellow. 

He  was  in  the  act  of  addressing  himself  to  an  inspection 
of  the  wain's  contents,  when  a  second  flask  lifted  in  air, 
gave  a  sop  to  his  curiosity.  This  flask  suffered  the  fate  of 
the  former. 


132  FARINA 

"  A  Swabian  blockhead,  are  n't  you  ?  " 

"Ay,  that  country,"  said  the  driver.  "May  be,  Henker 
ftothhals  happens  to  be  with  the  Baron  ?  " 

"  To  hell  with  him !  I  wish  he  had  niy  job,  and  I  his,  of 
watching  the  yellow-bird  in  her  new  cage,  till  she  's  taken 
out  to-night,  and  then  a  jolly  bumper  to  the  Baron  all 
round." 

The  driver  wished  him  a  fortunate  journey,  strongly 
recommending  him  to  skirt  the  abbey  westward,  and  go  by 
the  Ahr  valley,  as  there  was  something  stirring  that  way, 
and  mumbling,  "  Makes  five  again, "  as  he  put  the  wheels 
in  motion. 

"Goshawk!"  said  his  visible  companion;  "what  do  you 
say  now  ?  " 

"  I  say,  bless  that  widow !  " 

"  Oh !  bring  me  face  to  face  with  this  accursed  Werner 
quickly,  my  Gocl ! "  gasped  the  youth. 

"Tush!  'tis  not  Werner  we  want — there's  the  Thier 
speaking.  No,  no,  Schwartz  Thier!  I  trust  you,  no 
doubt ;  but  the  badger  smells  at  a  hole,  before  he  goes  in- 
side it.    We  're  strangers,  and  are  allowed  to  miss  our  way." 

Leaving  the  Avain  in  Farina's  charge,  he  pushed  through 
a  dense  growth  of  shrub  and  underwood,  and  came  crouch- 
ing on  a  precipitous  edge  of  shrouded  crag,  which  com- 
manded a  view  of  the  stronghold,  extending  round  it,  as  if 
scooped  clean  by  some  natural  action,  about  a  stone's-throw 
distant,  and  nearly  level  with  the  look-out  tower.  Sheer 
from  a  deep  circular  basin  clothed  with  wood,  and  bottomed 
with  grass  and  bubbling  water,  rose  a  naked  moss-stained 
rock,  on  whose  peak  the  castle  firmly  perched,  like  a  spy- 
ing hawk.  The  only  means  of  access  was  by  a  narrow 
natural  bridge  of  rock  flung  from  this  insulated  pinnacle 
across  to  the  mainland.  One  man,  well  disposed,  might 
have  held  it  against  forty. 

"Our  way's  the  best,"  thought  Guy,  as  he  meditated 
every  mode  of  gaining  admission.  "A  hundred  men  an 
hour  might  be  lost  cutting  steps  up  that  steep  slate ;  and 
once  at  the  top  we  should  only  have  to  be  shoved  down 
again." 

While  thus  engaged,  he  heard  a  summons  sounded  from 
the  castle,  and  scrambled  back  to  Farina. 


wern rail's  ECK  233 

"The  Thier  leads  now,"  said  he,  "and  who  leads  is  cap- 
tain. It  seems  easier  to  get  out  of  that  than  in.  There  's 
a  square  tower,  and  a  round.  I  guess  the  maiden  to  be 
in  the  round.  Now,  lad,  no  crying  out  —  You  don't  come 
in  with  us ;  but  back  you  go  for  the  horses,  and  have  them 
ready  and  fresh  in  yon  watered  meadow  under  the  castle. 
The  path  down  winds  easy." 

"  Man !  "  cried  Farina,  "  what  do  you  take  me  for  ?  —  go 
you  for  the  horses." 

"Not  for  a  fool,"  Guy  rejoined,  tightening  his  lip;  "but 
now  is  your  time  to  prove  yourself  one." 

"  With  you,  or  without  you,  I  enter  that  castle !  " 

"  Oh !  if  you  want  to  be  served  up  hot  for  the  Baron's 
supper-mess,  by  all  means." 

"Thunder!"  growled  Schwartz  Thier,  "aren't  ye 
moving  ?  " 

The  Goshawk  beckoned  Farina  aside. 

"Act  as  I  tell  you,  or  I  'm  for  Cologne." 

"Traitor!  "  muttered  the  youth. 

"  Swearing  this,  that  if  we  fail,  the  Baron  shall  need  a 
leech  sooner  than  a  bride." 

"That  stroke  must  be  mine!  " 

The  Goshawk  griped  the  muscle  of  Farina's  arm  till  the 
youth  was  compelled  to  slacken  it  with  pain. 

"Could  you  drive  a  knife  through  a  six-inch  wood-wall  ? 
I  doubt  this  wild  boar  wants  a  harder  hit  than  many  a  best 
man  could  give.  'S  blood!  obey,  sirrah.  How  shall  we 
keep  yon  fellow  true,  if  he  sees  we  're  at  points  ? " 

"I  yield,"  exclaimed  Farina  with  a  fall  of  the  chest; 
"but  hear  I  nothing  of  you  by  midnight  —  Oh!  then  think 
not  I  shall  leave  another  minute  to  chance.  Farewell! 
haste!  Heaven  prosper  you!  You  will  see  her,  and  die 
under  her  eyes.  That  may  be  denied  to  me.  What  have 
I  done  to  be  refused  that  last  boon  ?  " 

"Gone  without  breakfast  and  dinner,"  said  Guy  in 
abhorrent  tones. 

A  whistle  from  the  wain,  following  a  noise  of  the  castle- 
gates  being  flung  open,  called  the  Goshawk  away,  and  he 
slouched  his  shoulders  and  strode  to  do  his  part,  without 
another  word.  Farina  gazed  after  him,  and  dropped  into 
the  covert. 


234  FABINA 


THE  WATER-LADY 

'Bird  of  lovers!  Voice  of  the  passion  of  love!  Sweet, 
deep,  disaster-toning  nightingale!'  sings  the  old  minne- 
singer; '  who  that  has  not  loved,  hearing  thee  is  touched 
with  the  wand  of  love's  mysteries,  and  yearneth  to  he 
knoweth  not  whom,  humbled  by  overfulness  of  heart;  but 
who,  listening,  already  loveth,  heareth  the  language  he 
would  speak,  yet  faileth  in;  feeleth  the  great  tongueless 
sea  of  his  infinite  desires  stirred  beyond  his  narrow  bosom ; 
is  as  one  stript  of  wings  whom  the  angels  beckon  to  their 
silver  homes :  and  he  leaneth  forward  to  ascend  to  them, 
and  is  mocked  by  his  effort :  then  is  he  of  the  fallen,  and 
of  the  fallen  would  he  remain,  but  that  tears  lighten  him, 
and  through  the  tears  stream  jewelled  shafts  dropt  down 
to  him  from  the  sky,  precious  ladders  inlaid  with  amethyst, 
sapphire,  blended  jasper,  beryl,  rose-ruby,  ether  of 
heaven  flushed  with  softened  bloom  of  the  insufferable 
Presences:  and  lo,  the  ladders  dance,  and  quiver,  and 
waylay  his  eyelids,  and  a  second  time  he  is  mocked,  aspir- 
ing: and  after  the  third  swoon  standeth  Hope  before  him 
with  folded  arms,  and  eyes  dry  of  the  delusions  of  tears, 
saying,  Thou  hast  seen!  thou  hast  felt!  thy  strength  hath 
reached  in  thee  so  far!  now  shall  I  never  die  in  thee! ' 

i  For  surely, '  says  the  minstrel,  '  Hope  is  not  born  of 
earth,  or  it  were  perishable.  Rather  know  her  the  offspring 
of  that  embrace  strong  love  straineth  the  heavens  with. 
This  owe  we  to  thy  music,  bridal  nightingale !  And  the 
difference  of  this  celestial  spirit  from  the  smirking  phan- 
tasy of  whom  all  stand  soon  or  late  forsaken,  is  the  differ- 
ence between  painted  day  -with  its  poor  ambitious  snares, 
and  night  lifting  its  myriad  tapers  round  the  throne  of  the 
eternal,  the  prophet  stars  of  everlasting  time!  And  the 
one  dieth,  and  the  other  liveth ;  and  the  one  is  unregretted, 
and  the  other  walketh  in  thought-spun  raiment  of  divine 
melancholy;  her  ears  crowded  with  the  pale  surges  that 
wrap  this   shifting  shore;  in  her  eyes  a  shape  of  beauty 


THE   WATER-LADY  235 

floating  dimly,  that  she  will  not  attain  this  side  the  water, 
but  broodeth  on  evermore. 

'  Therefore,  hold  on  thy  cherished  four  long  notes,  which 
are  as  the  very  edge  where  exultation  and  anguish  melt, 
meet,  and  are  sharpened  to  one  ecstasy,  death-dividing 
bird!  Fill  the  woods  with  passionate  chuckle  and  sob, 
sweet  chaplain  of  the  marriage-service  of  a  soul  with 
heaven!  Four  out  thy  holy  wine  of  song  upon  the  soft- 
footed  darkness,  till,  like  a  priest  of  the  inmost  temple, 
'tis  drunken  with  fair  intelligences!' 

Thus  the  old  minstrels  and  minnesingers. 

Strong  and  full  sang  the  nightingales  that  night  Farina 
held  watch  by  the  guilty  castle  that  entombed  his  living 
beloved.  The  castle  looked  itself  a  denser  shade  among 
the  moon-thrown  shadows  of  rock  and  tree.  The  meadow 
spread  like  a  green  courtyard  at  the  castle's  foot.  It  was 
of  lush  deep  emerald  grass,  softly  mixed  with  gray  in  the 
moon's  light,  and  showing  like  jasper.  Where  the  shadows 
fell  thickest,  there  was  yet  a  mist  of  colour.  All  about 
ran  a  brook,  and  babbled  to  itself.  The  spring  crocus 
lifted  its  head  in  moist  mid-grasses  of  the  meadow,  rejoiced 
with  freshness.  The  rugged  heights  seemed  to  clasp  this 
one  innocent  spot  as  their  only  garden-treasure;  and  a 
bank  of  hazels  hid  it  from  the  castle  with  a  lover's  arm. 

"The  moon  will  tell  me,"  mused  Farina;  "the  moon  will 
signal  me  the  hour!  When  the  moon  hangs  over  the  round 
tower,  I  shall  know  't  is  time  to  strike." 

The  song  of  the  nightingales  was  a  full  unceasing  throb. 
It  went  like  the  outcry  of  one  heart  from  branch  to  branch. 
The  four  long  notes,  and  the  short  fifth  which  leads  off  to 
that  hurried  gush  of  music,  gurgling  rich  with  passion, 
came  thick  and  constant  from  under  the  tremulous  leaves. 

At  first  Farina  had  been  deaf  to  them.  His  heart  was  in 
the  dungeon  with  Margarita,  or  with  the  Goshawk  in  his 
dangers,  forming  a  thousand  desperate  plans,  among  the 
red-hot  ploughshares  of  desperate  action.  Finally,  with- 
out a  sense  of  being  wooed,  it  was  won.  The  tenderness 
of  his  love  then  mastered  him. 

"  God  will  not  suffer  that  fair  head  to  come  to  harm ! " 
he  thought,  and  with  the  thought  a  load  fell  off  his  breast. 


236  FARINA 

He  paced  the  meadows,  and  patted  the  three  pasturing 
steeds.  Involuntarily  his  sight  grew  on  the  moon.  She 
went  so  slowly.  She  seemed  not  to  move  at  all.  A  little 
wing  of  vapour  flew  toward  her ;  it  whitened,  passed,  and 
the  moon  was  slower  than  before.  Oh !  were  the  heavens 
delaying  their  march  to  look  on  this  iniquity  ?  Again 
and  again  he  cried,  "  Patience,  it  is  not  time !  "  He  flung 
himself  on  the  grass.  The  next  moment  he  climbed  the 
heights,  and  was  peering  at  the  mass  of  gloom  that  fronted 
the  sky.  It  reared  such  a  mailed  head  of  menace,  that  his 
heart  was  seized  with  a  quivering,  as  though  it  had  been 
struck.  Behind  lay  scattered  some  small  faint-twinkling 
stars  on  sapphire  fields,  and  a  stain  of  yellow  light  was  in 
a  breach  of  one  wall. 

He  descended.  What  was  the  Goshawk  doing  ?  Was 
he  betrayed?  It  was  surely  now  time?  No;  the  moon 
had  not  yet  smitten  the  face  of  the  castle.  He  made  his 
way  through  the  hazel-bank  among  flitting  night-moths, 
and  glanced  up  to  measure  the  moon's  distance.  As  he 
did  so,  a  first  touch  of  silver  fell  on  the  hoary  flint. 

"Oh,  young  bird  of  heaven  in  that  Devil's  clutch! " 

Sounds  like  the  baying  of  boar-hounds  alarmed  him. 
They  whined  into  silence. 

He  fell  back.  The  meadow  breathed  peace,  and  more 
and  more  the  nightingales  volumed  their  notes.  As  in  a 
charmed  circle  of  palpitating  song,  he  succumbed  to  lan- 
guor. The  brook  rolled  beside  him  fresh  as  an  infant, 
toying  with  the  moonlight.  He  leaned  over  it,  and  thrice 
waywardly  dipped  his  hand  in  the  clear  translucence. 

Was  it  his  own  face  imaged  there  ? 

Farina  bent  close  above  an  eddy  of  the  water.  It  whirled 
with  a  strange  tumult,  breaking  into  lines  and  lights  a  face 
not  his  own,  nor  the  moon's ;  nor  was  it  a  reflection.  The 
agitation  increased.  Now  a  wreath  of  bubbles  crowned  the 
pool,  and  a  pure  water-lily,  but  larger,  ascended  wavering. 

He  started  aside;  and  under  him  a  bright  head,  garlanded 
with  gemmed  roses,  appeared.  No  fairer  figure  of  woman 
had  Farina  seen.  Her  visage  had  the  lustrous  white  of 
moonlight,  and  all  her  shape  undulated  in  a  dress  of  flash- 
ing silver-white,  wonderful  to  see.  The  Lady  of  the 
Water  smiled  on  him,  and  ran  over  with  ripples  and  dim- 


THE   WATER-LADY  237 

pies  of  limpid  beauty.  Then,  as  he  retreated  on  the 
meadow  grass,  she  swam  toward  him,  and  taking  his  hand, 
pressed  it  to  her.  After  her  touch  the  youth  no  longer 
feared.  She  curved  her  finger,  and  beckoned  him  on.  All 
that  she  did  was  done  flowingly.  The  youth  was  a  shadow 
in  her  silver  track  as  she  passed  like  a  harmless  wave  over 
the  closed  crocuses;  but  the  crocuses  shivered  and  swelled 
their  throats  of  streaked  purple  and  argent  as  at  delicious 
rare  sips  of  a  wine.  Breath  of  violet,  and  ladysmock,  and 
valley-lily,  mingled  and  fluttered  about  her.  Farina  was 
as  a  man  working  the  day's  intent  in  a  dream.  He  could 
see  the  heart  in  her  translucent,  hanging  like  a  cold  dingy 
ruby.  By  the  purity  of  his  nature,  he  felt  that  such  a  pres- 
ence must  have  come  but  to  help.  It  might  be  Margarita's 
guardian  fairy ! 

They  passed  the  hazel-bank,  and  rounded  the  castle-crag, 
washed  by  the  brook  and,  beneath  the  advancing  moon, 
standing  in  a  ring  of  brawling  silver.  The  youth  with  his 
fervid  eyes  marked  the  old  weather-stains  and  scars  of  long 
defiance  coming  into  colour.  That  mystery  of  wickedness 
which  the  towers  had  worn  in  the  dusk,  was  dissolved,  and 
he  endured  no  more  the  almost  abashed  sensation  of  com- 
peting littleness  that  made  him  think  there  was  nought  to 
do,  save  die,  combating  single-handed  such  massive  power. 
The  moon  shone  calmly  superior,  like  the  prowess  of 
maiden  knights;  and  now  the  harsh  frown  of  the  walls 
struck  resolution  to  his  spirit,  and  nerved  him  with  hate 
and  the  contempt  true  courage  feels  when  matched  against 
fraud  and  villany. 

On  a  fallen  block  of  slate,  cushioned  with  rich  brown 
moss  and  rusted  weather-stains,  the  Water-Lady  sat,  and 
pointed  to  Farina  the  path  of  the  moon  toward  the  round 
tower.  She  did  not  speak,  and  if  his  lips  parted,  put  her 
cold  finger  across  them.  Then  she  began  to  hum  a  soft 
sweet  monotony  of  song,  vague  and  careless,  very  witching 
to  hear.  Farina  caught  no  words,  nor  whether  the  song 
was  of  days  in  dust  or  in  flower,  but  his  mind  bloomed 
with  legends  and  sad  splendours  of  story,  while  she  sang 
on  the  slate-block  under  sprinkled  shadows  by  the  water. 

He  had  listened  long  in  trance,  when  the  Water-Lady 
hushed,  and  stretched  forth  a  slender   forefinger  to   the 


238  FARINA 

moon.  It  stood  like  a  dot  over  the  round  tower.  Farina 
rose  in  haste.  She  did  not  leave  him  to  ask  her  aid,  but 
took  his  hand  and  led  him  up  the  steep  ascent.  Half-way 
to  the  castle,  she  rested.  There,  concealed  by  bramble- 
tufts,  she  disclosed  the  low  portal  of  a  secret  passage,  and 
pushed  it  open  without  effort.  She  paused  at  the  entrance, 
and  he  could  see  her  trembling,  seeming  to  wax  taller,  till 
she  was  like  a  fountain  glittering  in  the  cold  light.  Then 
she  dropped,  as  drops  a  dying  jet,  and  cowered  into  the 
passage. 

Darkness,  thick  with  earth-dews,  oppressed  his  senses. 
He  felt  the  clammy  walls  scraping  close  on  him.  Not  the 
dimmest  lamp,  or  guiding  sound,  was  near;  but  the  lady 
went  on  as  one  who  knew  her  way.  Passing  a  low-vaulted 
dungeon-room,  they  wound  up  stairs  hewn  in  the  rock,  and 
came  to  a  door,  obedient  to  her  touch,  which  displayed  a 
chamber  faintly  misted  by  a  solitary  bar  of  moonlight. 
Farina  perceived  they  were  above  the  foundation  of  the 
castle.  The  walls  gleamed  pale  with  knightly  harness, 
habergeons  gaping  for  heads,  breast-plates  of  blue  steel, 
halbert,  and  hand-axe,  greaves,  glaives,  boar-spears,  and 
polished  spur-fixed  heel-pieces.  He  seized  a  falchion 
hanging  apart,  but  the  lady  stayed  his  arm,  and  led  to 
another  flight  of  stone  ending  in  a  kind  of  corridor.  Noises 
of  laughter  and  high  feasting  beset  him  at  this  point. 
The  Lady  of  the  Water  sidled  her  head,  as  to  note  a 
familiar  voice;  and  then  drew  him  to  a  looped  aperture. 

Farina  beheld  a  scene  that  first  dazzled,  but,  as  it  grew 
into  shape,  sank  him  with  dismay.  Below,  and  level  with 
the  chamber  he  had  left,  a  rude  banqueting-hall  glowed, 
under  the  light  of  a  dozen  flambeaux,  with  smoking  boar's 
flesh,  deer's  flesh,  stone-flagons,  and  horn-beakers.  At 
the  head  of  this  board  sat  Werner,  scarlet  with  furious 
feasting,  and  on  his  right  hand,  Margarita,  bloodless  as  a 
beautiful  martyr  bound  to  the  fire.  Retainers  of  Werner 
occupied  the  length  of  the  hall,  chorusing  the  Baron's 
speeches,  and  drinking  their  own  healths  when  there  was 
no  call  for  another.  Farina  saw  his  beloved  alone.  She 
was  dressed  as  when  he  parted  with  her  last.  The  dear 
cameo  lay  on  her  bosom,  but  not  heaving  proudly  as  of  old. 
Her  shoulders  were  drooped  forward,  and  contracted  her 


THE  "WATER-LADY  239 

bosom  in  its  heaving.  She  would  have  had  a  humbled 
look,  but  for  the  marble  sternness  of  her  eyes.  They  were 
fixed  as  eyes  that  see  the  way  of  death  through  all  earthly 
objects. 

"  Now,  dogs !  "  cried  the  Baron,  "  the  health  of  the  night! 
and  swell  your  lungs,  for  I  '11  have  no  cat's  cry  when  Wer- 
ner's bride  is  the  toast.  Monk  or  no  monk's  leave,  she  's 
mine.  Ay,  my  pretty  one !  it  shall  be  made  right  in  the 
morning,  if  I  lead  all  the  Laach  rats  here  by  the  nose. 
Thunder!  no  disrespect  to  Werner's  bride  from  Pope  or 
abbot.  Now,  sing  out! — or  wait!  these  fellows  shall 
drink  it  first." 

He  stretched  and  threw  a  beaker  of  wine  right  and  left 
behind  him,  and  Farina's  despair  stiffened  his  limbs  as  he 
recognized  the  Goshawk  and  Schwartz  Thier  strapped  to 
the  floor.  Their  beards  were  already  moist  with  previous 
libations  similarly  bestowed,  and  they  received  this  in 
sullen  stillness;  but  Farina  thought  he  observed  a  rapid 
glance  of  encouragement  dart  from  beneath  the  Goshawk's 
bent  brows,  as  Margarita  momentarily  turned  her  head 
half-way  on  him. 

"  Lick  your  chaps,  ye  beasts,  and  don't  say  Werner  stints 
vermin  good  cheer  his  nuptial-night.  Now,"  continued  the 
Baron,  growing  huskier  as  he  talked  louder:  "short  and 
ringing,  my  devil's  pups:  —  Werner  and  his  Bride!  and 
may  she  soon  give  you  a  young  baron  to  keep  you  in  better 
order  than  I  can,  as,  if  she  does  her  duty,  she  will." 

The  Baron  stood  up,  and  lifted  his  huge  arm  to  lead  the 
toast. 

"  Werner  and  his  Bride !  " 

Not  a  voice  followed  him.  There  was  a  sudden  intima- 
tion of  the  call  being  echoed ;  but  it  snapped,  and  ended 
in  shuffling  tones,  as  if  the  hall-door  had  closed  on  the 
response. 

"  What 's  this  ?  "  roared  the  Baron,  in  that  caged  wild' 
beast  voice  Margarita  remembered  she  had  heard  in  the 
Cathedral  Square. 

No  one  replied. 

"Speak!  or  I  '11  rot  you  a  fathom  in  the  rock,  curs! " 

"Herr   Baron!"    said   Henker   Rothhals    impressively; 
'the  matter  is,  that  there 's  something  unholy  among  us." 


240  FARINA 

The  Baron's  goblet  flew  at  his  head  before  the  words 
were  uttered. 

"I  '11  make  an  unholy  thing  of  him  that  says  it,"  and 
Werner  lowered  at  them  one  by  one. 

"  Then  I  say  it,  Herr  Baron ! "  pursued  Henker  Both- 
hals, wiping  his  frontispiece.  "The  Devil  has  turned 
against  you  at  last.  Look  up  there  —  Ah,  it 's  gone  now; 
but  where  's  the  man  sitting  this  side  saw  it  not  ?  " 

The  Baron  made  one  spring,  and  stood  on  the  board. 

"  Now  !  will  any  rascal  here  please  to  say  so  ?  " 

Something  in  the  cruel  hang  of  his  threatening  hatchet 
jaw  silenced  many  in  the  act  of  confirming  the  assertion. 

"  Stand  out,  Henker  Bothhals  !  " 

Kothhals  slid  a  hunting-knife  up  his  wrist,  and  stepped 
back  from  the  board. 

"  Beast !  "  roared  the  Baron,  "  I  said  I  would  n't  shed 
blood  to-night.     I  spared  a  traitor,  and  an  enemy " 

"  Look  again  ! "  said  Bothhals ;  "  will  any  fellow  say  he 
saw  nothing  there  ?  " 

While  all  heads,  including  Werner's,  were  directed  to  the 
aperture  which  surveyed  them,  Bothhals  tossed  his  knife  to 
the  Goshawk  unperceived. 

This  time  answers  came  to  his  challenge,  but  not  in  con- 
firmation.    The  Baron  spoke  with  a  gasping  gentleness. 

"  So  you  trifle  with  me  ?  I  'm  dangerous  for  that  game. 
Mind  you  of  Blassgesell  ?  I  made  a  better  beast  of  him  by 
sending  him  three-quarters  of  the  road  to  hell  for  trial.'' 
Bellowing  —  "  Take  that !  "  he  discharged  a  broad  blade, 
hitherto  concealed  in  his  right  hand,  straight  at  Bothhals. 
It  fixed  in  his  cheek  and  jaw,  wringing  an  awful  breath  of 
pain  from  him  as  he  fell  against  the  wall. 

"  There 's  a  lesson  for  you  not  to  cross  me,  children ! "  said 
Werner,  striding  his  stumpy  legs  up  and  down  the  crashing 
board,  and  puffing  his  monstrous  girth  of  chest  and  midriff. 
"  Let  him  stop  there  awhile,  to  show  what  comes  of  thwart- 
ing Werner  !  —  Fire-devils  !  before  the  baroness,  too  !  — 
Something  unholy  is  there  ?  Something  unholy  in  his  jaw, 
I  think !  —  Leave  it  sticking !  —  He  's  against  me  at  last,  is 
he  ?     I  '11  teach  you  who  he  's  for  !  —  Who  speaks  ?  " 

All  hung  silent.  These  men  were  animals  dominated  fry 
a  mightier  brute. 


THE   11ESCUE  241 

He  clasped  his  throat,  and  shook  the  board  with  a  jump, 
as  he  squeaked,  rather  than  called,  a  second  time  —  "  Who 
spoke  ? " 

He  had  not  again  to  ask.     In  this  pause,  as  the  Baron 
glared  for  his  victim,  a  song,  so  softly  sung  that  it  soin 
remote,  but  of  which  every  syllable  was  clearly  rounded, 
swelled  into  his  ears,  and  froze  him  in  his  angry  posture. 

"  The  blood  of  the  barons  shall  turn  to  ice, 
And  their  castle  fall  to  wreck, 
When  a  true  lover  dips  in  the  water  thrice, 
That  runs  round  Werner's  Eck. 

"  Round  Werner's  Eck  the  water  runs ; 
The  hazels  shiver  and  shake  : 
The  walls  that  have  blotted  such  happy  suns, 
Are  seized  with  the  ruin-quake. 

"  And  quake  with  the  ruin,  and  quake  with  rue, 
Thou  last  of  Werner's  race  ! 
The  hearts  of  the  barons  were  cold  that  knew 
The  Water-Dame's  embrace. 

"  For  a  sin  was  done,  and  a  shame  was  wrought, 
That  water  went  to  hide  : 
And  those  who  thought  to  make  it  nought, 
They  did  but  spread  it  wide. 

"  Hold  ready,  hold  ready  to  pay  the  price, 
And  keep  thy  bridal  cheer : 
A  hand  has  dipped  in  the  water  thrice, 
And  the  Water-Dame  is  here." 


THE   RESCUE 


The  Goshawk  was  on  his  feet.  "  Now,  lass,"  said  he  to 
Margarita,  "now  is  the  time ! "  He  took  her  hand,  and  led 
her  -to  the  door.  Schwartz  Thier  closed  up  behind  her. 
Not  a  man  in  the  hall  interposed.  Werner's  head  moved 
round  after  them,  like  a  dog  on  the  watch ;  but  he  was 
dumb.  The  door  opened,  and  Farina  entered.  He  bore  a 
sheaf  of  weapons  under  his  arm.  The  familiar  sight  re- 
lieved Werner's  senses  from  the  charm.    He  shouted  to  bar 


242  FARINA 

the  prisoners'  passage.  His  men  were  ranged  like  statues 
in  the  hall.  There  was  a  start  among  them,  as  if  that  ter- 
rible noise  communicated  an  instinct  of  obedience,  but  no 
more.     They  glanced  at  each  other,  and  remained  quiet. 

The  Goshawk  had  his  eye  on  Werner.  "Stand  back, 
lass  !"  he  said  to  Margarita.  She  took  a  sword  from  Farina, 
and  answered,  with  white  lips  and  flashing  eyes,  "I  can 
fight,  Goshawk !  " 

"  And  shall,  if  need  be ;  but  leave  it  to  me  now,"  re- 
turned Guy. 

His  eye  never  left  the  Baron.  Suddenly  a  shriek  of  steel 
rang.  All  fell  aside,  and  the  combatants  stood  opposed  on 
clear  ground.  Farina  took  Margarita's  left  hand,  and 
placed  her  against  the  wall  between  the  Thier  and  himself. 
Werner's  men  were  well  content  to  let  their  master  fight  it 
out.  The  words  spoken  by  Henker  Rothhals,  that  the  Devil 
had  forsaken  him,  seemed  in  their  minds  confirmed  by  the 
weird  song  which  every  one  present  could  swear  he  heard 
with  his  ears.  "Let  him  take  his  chance,  and  try  his  own 
luck,"  they  said,  and  shrugged.  The  battle  was  between 
Guy,  as  Margarita's  champion,  and  Werner. 

In  Schwartz  Thier's  judgement,  the  two  were  well  matched, 
and  he  estimated  their  diverse  qualities  from  sharp  experi- 
ence. "For  short  work  the  Baron,  and  my  new  mate  for 
tough  standing  to't!"  Farina's  summary  in  favour  of  the 
Goshawk  was,  "  A  stouter  heart,  harder  sinews,  and  a  good 
cause."  The  combat  was  generally  regarded  with  a  pro- 
fessional eye,  and  few  prayers.  Margarita  solely  there 
asked  aid  from  above,  and  knelt  to  the  Virgin ;  but  her, 
too,  the  clash  of  arms  and  dire  earnest  of  mortal  fight 
aroused  to  eager  eyes.  She  had  not  dallied  with  heroes  in 
her  dreams.  She  was  as  ready  to  second  Siegfried  on  the 
crimson  field  as  tend  him  in  the  silken  chamber. 

It  was  well  that  a  woman's  heart  was  there  to  mark  the 
grace  and  glory  of  manhood  in  upright  foot-to-foot  en- 
counter. For  the  others,  it  was  a  mere  calculation  of  lucky 
hits.  Even  Farina,  in  his  anxiety  for  her,  saw  but  the 
brightening  and  darkening  of  the  prospect  of  escape  in 
every  attitude  and  hard-ringing  blow.  Margarita  was  pos- 
sessed with  a  painful  exaltation.  In  her  eyes  the  bestial 
Baron  now  took  a  nobler  form  and  countenance ;  but  the 


THE   RESCUE  243 

Goshawk  assumed  the  sovereign  aspect  of  old  heroes,  who, 
whether  persecuted  or  favoured  of  heaven,  still  maintained 
their  stand,  remembering  of  what  stuff  they  were,  and  who 
made  them. 

'Never,'  say  the  old  writers,  with  a  fervour  honourable 
to  their  knowledge  of  the  elements  that  compose  our  being, 
1  never  may  this  bright  privilege  of  fair  fight  depart  from 
us,  nor  advantage  of  it  fail  to  be  taken !  Man  against  man, 
or  beast,  singly  keeping  his  ground,  is  as  fine  rapture  to  the 
breast  as  Beauty  in  her  softest  hour  affordeth.  For  if 
woman  taketh  loveliness  to  her  when  she  languisheth,  so 
surely  doth  man  in  these  fierce  moods,  when  steel  and  iron 
sparkle  opposed,  and  their  breath  is  fire,  and  their  lips 
white  with  the  lock  of  resolution ;  all  their  faculties  knotted 
to  a  point,  and  their  energies  alive  as  the  daylight  to  prove 
themselves  superior,  according  to  the  laws  and  under  the 
blessing  of  chivalry.' 

'For  all,'  they  go  on  to  improve  the  comparison,  'may 
admire  and  delight  in  fair  blossoming  dales  under  the  blue 
dome  of  peace;  but  'tis  the  rare  lofty  heart  alone  com- 
prehendeth,  and  is  heightened  by,  terrific  splendours  of 
tempest,  when  cloud  meets  cloud  in  skies  black  as  the 
sepulchre,  and  Glory  sits  like  a  flame  on  the  helm  of 
Ruin.' 

For  a  while  the  combatants  aired  their  dexterity,  con- 
tenting themselves  with  cunning  cuts  and  flicks  of  the 
sword-edge,  in  which  Werner  first  drew  blood  by  a  keen 
sweep  along  the  forehead  of  the  Goshawk.  Guy  had  al- 
lowed him  to  keep  his  position  on  the  board,  and  still 
fought  at  his  face  and  neck.  He  now  jerked  back  his  body 
from  the  hip,  and  swung  a  round  stroke  at  Werner's  knee, 
sending  him  in  retreat  with  a  snort  of  pain.  Before  the 
Baron  could  make  good  his  ground,  Guy  was  level  with 
him  on  the  board. 

Werner  turned  an  upbraiding  howl  at  his  men.  They 
were  not  disposed  to  second  him  yet.  They  one  and  all 
approved  his  personal  battle  with  Fate,  and  never  more 
admired  him  and  felt  his  power ;  but  the  affair  was  excit- 
ing, and  they  were  not  the  pillars  to  prop  a  falling  house. 


244  FARINA 

Werner  clenched  his  two  hands  to  his  ponderous  glaive, 
and  fell  upon  Guy  with  heavier  fury.  He  was  becoming 
not  unworth  the  little  womanly  appreciation  Margarita  was 
brought  to  bestow  on  him.  The  voice  of  the  Water-Lady 
whispered  at  her  heart  that  the  Baron  warred  on  his  des- 
tiny, and  that  ennobles  all  living  souls. 

Bare-headed  the  combatants  engaged,  and  the  head-piece 
was  the  chief  point  of  attack.  No  swerving  from  blows 
was  possible  for  either :  ward,  or  take ;  a  false  step  would 
have  ensured  defeat.  This  also  induced  caution.  Many  a 
double  stamp  of  the  foot  was  heard,  as  each  had  to  retire 
in  turn. 

"  Not  at  his  head  so  much,  he  '11  bear  battering  there  all 
night  long,"  said  Henker  Bothhals  in  a  breathing  interval. 
Knocks  had  been  pretty  equally  exchanged,  but  the  Baron's 
head  certainly  looked  the  least  vulnerable,  whereas  Guy  ex- 
hibited several  dints  that  streamed  freely.  Yet  he  looked, 
eye  and  bearing,  as  fresh  as  when  they  began,  and  the  calm, 
regular  heave  of  his  chest  contrasted  with  Werner's  quick 
gasps.  His  smile,  too,  renewed  each  time  the  Baron  paused 
for  breath,  gave  Margarita  heart.  It  was  not  a  taunting 
smile,  but  one  of  entire  confidence,  and  told  all  the  more  on 
his  adversary.  As  Werner  led  off  again,  and  the  choice 
was  always  left  him,  every  expression  of  the  Goshawk's 
face  passed  to  full  light  in  his  broad  eyes. 

The  Baron's  play  was  a  reckless  fury.  There  was  noth- 
ing to  study  in  it.  Guy  became  the  chief  object  of  specu- 
lation. He  was  evidently  trying  to  wind  his  man.  He 
struck  wildly,  some  thought.  Others  judged  that  he  was  a 
random  hitter,  and  had  no  mortal  point  in  aim.  Schwartz 
Thier's  opinion  was  frequently  vented.  "Too  round  a 
stroke  —  down  on  him !     Chop  —  not  slice ! " 

Guy  persevered  in  his  own  fashion.  According  to 
Schwartz  Thier,  he  brought  down  by  his  wilfulness  the 
blow  that  took  him  on  the  left  shoulder,  and  nigh  broke 
him.  It  was  a  weighty  blow,  followed  by  a  thump  of 
sound.  The  sword-edge  swerved  on  his  shoulder-blade,  or 
he  must  have  been  disabled.  But  Werner's  crow  was  short, 
and  he  had  no  time  to  push  success.  One  of  the  Goshawk's 
swooping  under-hits  half  severed  his  right  wrist,  and  the 
blood  spirted  across  the  board.     He  gasped  and  seemed  to 


THE   RESCUE  245 

succumb,  but  held  to  it  still,  though  with  slackened  force. 
Guy  now  attacked.  Holding  to  his  round  strokes,  he 
accustomed  Werner  to  guard  the  body,  and  stood  to  it  so 
briskly  right  and  left,  that  Werner  grew  bewildered,  lost 
his  caution,  and  gave  ground.  Suddenly  the  Goshawk's 
glaive  flashed  in  air,  and  chopped  sheer  down  on  Werner's 
head.  So  shrewd  a  blow  it  was  against  a  half-formed  de- 
fence, that  the  Baron  dropped  without  a  word  right  on  the 
edge  of  the  board,  and  there  hung,  feebly  grasping  with  his 
fingers. 

"  Who  bars  the  way  now  1 "  sang  out  Guy. 

No  one  accepted  the  challenge.  Success  clothed  him 
with  terrors,  and  gave  him  giant  size. 

"Then  fare  you  well,  my  merry  men  all,"  said  Guy. 
"Bear  me  no  ill-will  for  this.  A  little  doctoring  will  right 
the  bold  Baron." 

He  strode  jauntily  to  the  verge  of  the  board,  and  held  his 
finger  for  Margarita  to  follow.  She  stepped  forward.  The 
men  put  their  beards  together,  muttering.  She  could  not 
advance.  Farina  doubled  his  elbow,  and  presented  sword- 
point.  Three  of  the  ruffians  now  disputed  the  way  with 
bare  steel.  Margarita  looked  at  the  Goshawk.  He  was 
smiling  calmly  curious  as  he  leaned  over  his  sword,  and 
gave  her  an  encouraging  nod.  She  made  another  step  in 
defiance.  One  fellow  stretched  his  hand  to  arrest  her.  All 
her  maidenly  pride  stood  up  at  once.  "What  a  glorious 
girl!"  murmured  the  Goshawk,  as  he  saw  her  face  sud- 
denly flash,  and  she  retreated  a  pace  and  swung  a  sharp 
cut  across  the  knuckles  of  her  assailant,  daring  him,  or  one 
of  them,  with  hard,  bright  eyes,  beautifully  vindictive,  to  lay 
hand  on  a  pure  maiden. 

"  You  have  it,  Barenleib  !  "  cried  the  others,  and  then  to 
Margarita :  "  Look,  young  mistress !  we  are  poor  fellows, 
and  ask  a  trifle  of  ransom,  and  then  part  friends." 

"  Not  an  ace  !  "  the  Goshawk  pronounced  from  his  post. 

"  Two  to  one,  remember." 

"  The  odds  are  ours,"  replied  the  Goshawk  confidently. 

They  ranged  themselves  in  front  of  the  hall-door.  In- 
stead of  accepting  this  challenge,  Guy  stepped  to  Werner, 
and  laid  his  moaning  foe  lengthwise  in  an  easier  posture. 
He  then  lifted  Margarita  on  the  board,  and  summoned  them 


246  FARINA 

with  cry  of  "  Free  passage  ! "  They  answered  by  a  sullen 
shrug  and  taunt. 

"  Schwartz  Thier !  Kothhals !  Farina !  buckle  up,  and 
make  ready  then,"  sang  Guy. 

He  measured  the  length  of  his  sword,  and  raised  it.  The 
Goshawk  had  not  underrated  his  enemies.  He  was  tempted 
to  despise  them  when  he  marked  their  gradually  lengthen- 
ing chaps  and  eyeballs. 

Not  one  of  them  moved.  All  gazed  at  him  as  if  their 
marrows  were  freezing  with  horror. 

<•  What 's  this  ?  "  cried  Guy. 

They  knew  as  little  as  he,  but  a  force  was  behind  them 
irresistible  against  their  efforts.  The  groaning  oak  slipped 
open,  pushing  them  forward,  and  an  apparition  glided  past, 
soft  as  the  pallid  silver  of  the  moon.  She  slid  to  the 
Baron,  and  put  her  arms  about  him,  and  sang  to  him. 
Had  the  Water-Lady  laid  an  iron  hand  on  all  those  ruffians, 
she  could  not  have  held  them  faster  bound  than  did  the 
fear  of  her  presence.  The  Goshawk  drew  his  fair  charge 
through  them,  followed  by  Farina,  the  Thier,  and  Rothhals. 
A  last  glimpse  of  the  hall  showed  them  still  as  old  cathe- 
dral sculpture  staring  at  white  light  on  a  fluted  pillar  of 
the  wall. 


THE   PASSAGE  OF  THE  RHINE 

Low  among  the  swarthy  sandhills  behind  the  Abbey  of 
Laach  dropped  the  round  red  moon.  Soft  lengths  of  misty 
yellow  stole  through  the  glens  of  Rhineland.  The  nightin- 
gales still  sang.  Closer  and  closer  the  moon  came  into  the 
hushed  valleys. 

There  is  a  dell  behind  Hammerstein  Castle,  a  ring  of 
basking  sward,  girdled  by  a  silver  slate-brook,  and  guarded 
b}7  four  high-peaked  hills  that  slope  down  four  long  wooded 
corners  to  the  grassy  base.  Here,  it  is  said,  the  elves  and 
earthmen  play,  dancing  in  circles  with  laughing  feet  that 
fatten  the  mushroom.  They  would  have  been  fulfilling 
the  tradition  now,  but  that  the  place  was  occupied  by  a 


THE   TASSAGE   OF   THE    RHINE  247 

sturdy  group  of  mortals,  armed  with  staves.     The  intrudi 
were  sleepy,  and  lay  about  on  the  inclines.     Now  and  then 
two  got  up,  and  there  rang  hard  echoes  of  oak.     Again  all 
were  calm  as  cud-chewing  cattle,  and  the  white  water  ran 
pleased  with  quiet. 

It  may  be  that  the  elves  brewed  mischief  among  them ; 
for  the  oaken  blows  were  becoming  more  frequent.  One 
complained  of  a  kick :  another  demanded  satisfaction  for  a 
pinch.  "  Go  to,"  drawled  the  accused  drowsily  in  both 
cases,  "too  much  beer  last  night!  "  Within  three  minutes, 
the  company  counted  a  pair  of  broken  heads.  The  East 
was  winning  on  the  West  in  heaven,  and  the  dusk  was 
thinning.  They  began  to  mark,  each,  whom  he  had  cudg- 
elled. A  noise  of  something  swiftly  in  motion  made  them 
alert.  A  roebuck  rushed  down  one  of  the  hills,  and  scam- 
pered across  the  sward.  The  fine  beast  went  stretching  so 
rapidly  away  as  to  be  hardly  distinct. 

"  Sathanas  once  more ! "  they  murmured,  and  drew 
together. 

The  name  passed  through  them  like  a  watchword. 

"Not  he  this  time,"  cried  the  two  new-comers,  emerging 
from  the  foliage.  "  He  's  safe  under  Cologne  —  the  worse 
for  all  good  men  who  live  there !  But  come !  follow  to  the 
Rhine !  there  's  work  for  us  on  the  yonder  side,  and  sharp 
work." 

"  Why,"  answered  several,  "  we  've  our  challenge  with 
the  lads  of  Leutesdorf  and  Wied  to-day." 

"  D'  ye  see  this  ?  "  said  the  foremost  of  the  others,  point- 
ing to  a  carved  ivory  white  rose  in  his  cap. 

"  Brothers !  "  he  swelled  his  voice,  "  follow  with  a  will, 
for  the  White  Rose  is  in  danger!  " 

Immediately  they  ranked,  and  followed  zealously  through 
the  buds  of  young  bushes,  and  over  heaps  of  damp  dead 
leaves,  a  half-hour's  scramble,  when  they  defiled  under 
Plammerstein,  and  stood  before  the  Rhine.  Their  leader 
led  up  the  river,  and  after  a  hasty  walk,  stopped,  loosened 
his  hood,  aud  stripped. 

"  Now,"  said  he,  strapping  the  bundle  to  his  back,  "  let 
me  know  the  hound  that  refuses  to  follow  his  leader  when 
the  White  Rose  is  in  danger." 

"  Long  live  Dietrich !  "  they  shouted.     He  dropped  from 


248  FARINA 

the  bank,  and  waded  in.  He  was  soon  supported  by  the 
remainder  of  the  striplings,  and  all  struck  out  boldly  into 
mid-stream. 

Never  heard  history  of  a  nobler  Passage  of  the  Rhine 
than  this  made  between  Andernach  and  Hammerstein  by 
members  of  the  White  Rose  Club,  bundle  on  back,  to  relieve 
the  White  Rose  of  Germany  from  thrall  and  shame ! 

They  were  taken  far  down  by  the  rapid  current,  and 
arrived  panting  to  land.  The  dressing  done,  they  marched 
up  the  pass  of  Tonnistein,  and  took  a  deep  draught  at  the 
spring  of  pleasant  waters  there  open  to  wayfarers.  Arrived 
at  the  skirts  of  Laach,  they  beheld  two  farmer  peasants 
lashed  back  to  back  against  a  hazel.  They  released  them, 
but  could  gain  no  word  of  information,  as  the  fellows,  after 
a  yawn  and  a  wink,  started  off,  all  heels,  to  make  sure  of 
liberty.  On  the  shores  of  the  lake  the  brotherhood  descried 
a  body  of  youths,  whom  they  hailed,  and  were  welcomed 
to  companionship. 

"  Where  's  Berthold  ?  "  asked  Dietrich. 

He  was  not  present. 

"  The  more  glory  for  us,  then,"  Dietrich  said. 

It  was  here  seriously  put  to  the  captain,  whether  they 
should  not  halt  at  the  abbey,  and  refect,  seeing  that  great 
work  was  in  prospect. 

"  Truly,"  quoth  Dietrich,  "  dying  on  an  empty  stomach 
is  heathenish,  and  cold  blood  makes  a  green  wound  gape. 
Kaiser  Conrad  should  be  hospitable,  and  the  monks  honour 
numbers.     Here  be  we,  thirty  and  nine ;  let  us  go !  " 

The  West  was  dark  blue  with  fallen  light.  The  lake- 
waters  were  growing  gray  with  twilight.  The  abbey  stood 
muffled  in  shadows.  Already  the  youths  had  commenced 
battering  at  the  convent  doors,  when  they  were  summoned 
by  the  voice  of  the  Goshawk  on  horseback.  To  their  con- 
fusion they  beheld  the  White  Rose  herself  on  his  right 
hand.     Chapfallen  Dietrich  bowed  to  his  sweet  mistress. 

"  We  were  coming  to  the  rescue,"  he  stammered. 

A  laugh  broke  from  the  Goshawk.  "  You  thought  the 
lady  was  locked  up  in  the  ghostly  larder ;  eh  ?  " 

Dietrich  seized  his  sword,  and  tightened  his  belt.  "  The 
Club  allow  no  jesting  with  the  White  Rose,  Sir  Stranger." 

Margarita  made  peace.     "  I  thank  you  all,  good  friends 


THE   PASSAGE   OF  THE   RHINE  2l!> 

But  quarrel  not,  I  pray  you,  with  thein  that  save  ine  at  the 
risk  of  their  lives." 

"  Our  service  is  equal,"  said  the  Goshawk,  flourishing  — 
"Only  we  happen  to  be  beforehand  with  the  Club,  for 
which  Farina  and  myself  heartily  beg  pardon  of  the  entire 
brotherhood." 

"Farina!"  exclaimed  Dietrich.  "Then  we  make  a 
prisoner  instead  of  uncaging  a  captive." 

"  What 's  this  ?  "  said  Guy. 

"  So  much,"  responded  Dietrich.  "  Yonder 's  a  runaway 
from  two  masters :  the  law  of  Cologne,  and  the  conqueror 
of  Satan  ;  and  all  good  citizens  are  empowered  to  bring  him 
back,  dead  or  alive." 

"Dietrich!  Dietrich!  dare  you  talk  thus  of  the  man  who 
saved  me  ?  "  cried  Margarita. 

Dietrich  sullenly  persisted. 

"  Then,  look ! "  said  the  White  Kose,  reddening  under  the 
pale  dawn  ;  "  he  shall  not,  he  shall  not  go  with  you." 

One  of  the  Club  was  here  on  the  point  of  speaking  to  the 
White  Rose,  —  a  breach  of  the  captain's  privilege.  Dietrich 
felled  him  unresisting  to  earth,  and  resumed :  "  It  must 
be  done,  Beauty  of  Cologne !  the  monk,  father  Gregory,  is 
now  enduring  shame  and  scorn  for  lack  of  this  truant 
witness." 

"  Enough !  I  go ! "  said  Farina. 

"  You  leave  me  ?  "  Margarita  looked  tender  reproach. 
Weariness  and  fierce  excitement  had  given  a  liquid  flame  to 
her  eyes  and  an  endearing  darkness  round  their  circles  that 
matched  strangely  with  her  plump  youth.  Her  features 
had  a  soft  white  flush.  She  was  less  radiant,  but  never 
looked  so  bewitching.  An  aspect  of  sweet  human  lan- 
guor caught  at  the  heart  of  love,  and  raised  tumults. 

"  It  is  a  duty,"  said  Farina. 

"  Then  go,"  she  beckoned,  and  held  her  hand  for  him  to 
kiss.  He  raised  it  to  his  lips.  This  was  seen  of  all  the 
Club. 

As  they  were  departing  with  Farina,  and  Guy  prepared 
to  demand  admittance  into  the  convent,  Dietrich  chanced  to 
ask  how  fared  Dame  Lisbeth.  Schwartz  Thier  was  by,  and 
answered,  with  a  laugh,  that  he  had  quite  forgotten  the 
little  lady. 


250  FARINA 

"We  took  her  in  mistake  for  you,  mistress!  She  was  a 
one  to  scream!  The  moment  she  was  kissed — mum  as  a 
cloister.  We  kissed  her,  all  of  us,  for  the  fun  of  it.  No 
harm  —  no  harm !  We  should  have  dropped  her  when  we 
found  we  had  the  old  bird  'stead  of  the  young  one,  but 
reckoned  ransom,  ye  see.  She  's  at  the  Eck,  rattling,  I 's 
wager,  like  last  year's  nut  in  the  shell!" 

"  Lisbeth !  Lisbeth !  poor  Lisbeth ;  Ave  will  return  to  her. 
Instantly,"  cried  Margarita. 

"  Not  you,"  said  Guy. 

"Yes!  I!" 

"No!"  said  Guy. 

"  Gallant  Goshawk !  best  of  birds,  let  me  go !  " 

"Without  me  or  Farina,  never!  I  see  I  shall  have  no 
chance  with  my  lord  now.  Come,  then,  come,  fair  Irresis- 
tible! come,  lads.  Farina  can  journey  back  alone.  You 
shall  have  the  renown  of  rescuing  Dame  Lisbeth." 

"  Farina !  forget  not  to  comfort  my  father,"  said  Margarita. 

Between  Margarita's  society  and  Farina's,  there  was  little 
dispute  in  the  captain's  mind  which  choice  to  make.  Fa- 
rina was  allowed  to  travel  single  to  Cologne  ;  and  Dietrich, 
petted  by  Margarita,  and  gently  jeered  by  Guy,  headed  the 
Club  from  Laach  waters  to  the  castle  of  the  Robber  Baron. 


THE   BACK-BLOWS   OF  SATHANAS. 

Monk  Gregory  was  pacing  the  high  road  between  the 
Imperial  camp  and  suffering  Cologne.  The  sun  had  risen 
through  interminable  distances  of  cloud  that  held  him 
remote  in  a  succession  of  receding  mounds  and  thinner  veils, 
realm  beyond  realm,  till  he  showed  tireless,  like  a  phantom 
king  in  a  phantom  land.  The  lark  was  in  the  breast  of 
morning.  The  field-mouse  ran  along  the  furrows.  Dews 
hung  red  and  gray  on  the  weedy  banks  and  wayside  trees. 
At  times  the  nostril  of  the  good  father  was  lifted,  and  he 
beat  his  breast,  relapsing  into  sorrowful  contemplation. 
Passed  any  citizen  of  Cologne,  the  ghostly  head  slunk  into 
its  cowl.     "  There 's  a  black  raven !  "  said  many.    Monk 


THE   BACK-BLOWS   OF   SATHANAS  -•">! 

Gregory  heard  them,  and  murmured,  "  Thou  hast  me,  Evil 
one!  thou  hast  me!  " 

It  was  noon  when  Farina  came  clattering  down  from  the 
camp. 

"  Father,"  said  he,  "I  have  sought  thee." 

"  My  son ! "  exclaimed  Monk  Gregory  with  silencing 
hand,  "  thou  didst  not  well  to  leave  me  contending  against 
the  tongues  of  doubt.  Answer  me  not.  The  maiden  !  and 
what  weighed  she  in  such  a  scale  ?  —  No  more !  I  am 
punished.     Well  speaks  the  ancient  proverb: 

'  Beware  the  back-blows  of  Sathanas ! ' 

I,  that  thought  to  have  vanquished  him!  Vanity  has 
wrecked  me,  in  this  world  and  the  next.  I  am  the  victim 
of  self-incense.  I  hear  the  demons  shouting  their  chorus  — 
'  Here  comes  Monk  Gregory,  who  called  himself  Conqueror 
of  Darkness! '  In  the  camp  I  am  discredited  and  a  scoff; 
in  the  city  I  am  spat  upon,  abhorred.  Satan,  my  son, 
fights  not  with  his  fore-claws.  'T  is  with  his  tail  he  fights, 
0  Farina!  —  Listen,  my  son!  he  entered  to  his  kingdom 
below  through  Cologne,  even  under  the  stones  of  the 
Cathedral  Square,  and  the  stench  of  him  abominably  re- 
maineth,  challenging  the  nostrils  of  holy  and  unholy  alike. 
The  Kaiser  cannot  approach  for  him  ;  the  citizens  are  out- 
raged. Oh!  had  I  held  my  peace  in  humbleness,  I  had 
truly  conquered  him.  But  he  gave  me  easy  victory,  to 
inflate  me.  I  shall  not  last.  Now  this  only  is  left,  my 
son ;  that  thou  bear  living  testimony  to  the  truth  of  my 
statement,  as  I  bear  it  to  the  folly ! " 

Farina  promised,  in  the  face  of  all,  he  would  proclaim 
and  witness  to  his  victory  on  Drachenfels. 

"That  I  may  not  be  ranked  an  impostor!"  continued 
the  Monk.  "  And  how  great  must  be  the  virtue  of  them 
that  encounter  that  dark  spirit!  Valour  availeth  nought. 
But  if  virtue  be  not  in  ye,  soon  will  ye  be  puffed  to  burst- 
ing with  that  devil's  poison,  self-incense.  Surely,  my  son, 
thou  art  faithful,  and  for  this  service  I  can  reward  thee. 
Follow  me  yet  again." 

On  the  road  they  met  Gottlieb  Groschen,  hastening  to 
the  camp.  Dismay  rumpled  the  old  merchant's  honest 
jowl.     Farina  drew  rein  before  him. 


252  FARINA 

"  Your  daughter  is  safe,  worthy  Master  Groschen,"  said  he, 

«  Safe  ?  "  cried  Gottlieb  ;  "  where  is  she,  my  Grete  ?  " 

Farina  briefly  explained.  Gottlieb  spread  out  his  arms, 
and  was  going  to  thank  the  youth.  He  saw  Father  Gregory, 
and  his  whole  frame  narrowed  with  disgust.  ■ 

"  Are  you  in  company  with  that  pestilent  animal,  that 
curse  of  Cologne!  " 

"  The  good  Monk ,"  said  Farina. 

"You  are  leagued  with  him,  then,  sirrah!  Expect  no 
thanks  from  me.  Cologne,  I  say,  is  cursed!  Meddling 
wretches !  could  ye  not  leave  Satan  alone  ?  He  hurt  us 
not.  We  were  free  of  him.  Cologne,  I  say,  is  cursed! 
The  enemy  of  mankind  is  brought  by  you  to  be  the  deadly 
foe  of  Cologne." 

So  saying,  Gottlieb  departed. 

"  Seest  thou,  my  son,"  quoth  the  Monk,  "they  reason 
not!" 

Farina  was  dejected.  Willingly  would  he,  for  his  part, 
have  left  the  soul  of  Evil  a  loose  rover  for  the  sake  of  some 
brighter  horizon  to  his  hope. 

No  twinge  of  remorse  accompanied  Gottlieb.  The  Kaiser 
had  allotted  him  an  encampment  and  a  guard  of  honour 
for  his  household  while  the  foulness  raged,  and  there  Gott- 
lieb welcomed  back  Margarita  and  Aunt  Lisbeth  on  the 
noon  after  his  meeting  with  Farina.  The  White  Eose  had 
rested  at  Laach,  and  was  blooming  again.  She  and  the 
Goshawk  came  trotting  in  advance  of  the  Club  through  the 
woods  of  Laach,  startling  the  deer  with  laughter,  and  send- 
ing the  hare  with  her  ears  laid  back  all  across  country. 
In  vain  Dietrich  menaced  Guy  with  the  terrors  of  the  Club : 
Aunt  Lisbeth  begged  of  Margarita  not  to  leave  her  with 
the  footmen  in  vain.  The  joyous  couple  galloped  over  the 
country,  and  sprang  the  ditches,  and  leapt  the  dykes,  up 
and  down  the  banks,  glad  as  morning  hawks,  entering  An- 
dernach  at  a  round  pace  ;  where  they  rested  at  a  hostel  as 
capable  of  producing  good  Rhine  and  Mosel  wine  then  as 
now.  Here  they  had  mid-day's  meal  laid  out  in  the  garden 
for  the  angry  Club,  and  somewhat  appeased  them  on  their 
arrival  with  bumpers  of  the  best  Scharzhofberger.  After 
a  refreshing  halt,  three  boats  were  hired.  On  their  passage 
to  the  river,  they  encountered  a  procession  of  monks  headed 


THE  BACK-BLOWS  OF  SATIIANAS  253 

by  the  Archbishop  of  Andernach,  bearing  a  small  figure  of 
Christ  carved  in  blackthorn  and  varnished:  said  to  work 
miracles,  and  a  present  to  the  good  town  from  two  Hun- 
garian pilgrims. 

"  Are  ye  for  Cologne  ?  "  the  monks  inquired  of  them. 

"  Direct  down  stream ! "  they  answered. 

"  Send,  then,  hither  to  us  Gregory,  the  conqueror  of 
Darkness,  that  he  may  know  there  is  gratitude  on  earth 
and  gratulation  for  great  deeds,"  said  the  monks. 

So  with  genuflexions  the  travellers  proceeded,  and 
entered  the  boats  by  the  Archbishop's  White  Tower. 
Hammerstein  Castle  and  Kheineck  they  floated  under;  Sal- 
zig  and  the  Ahr  confluence  ;  Eolandseck  and  Nonnenwerth ; 
Drachenfels  and  Bonn  ;  hills  green  with  young  vines  ;  dells 
waving  fresh  foliage.  Margarita  sang  as  they  floated. 
Ancient  ballads  she  sang  that  made  the  Goshawk  sigh  for 
home,  and  affected  the  Club  with  delirious  love  for  the 
grand  old  water  that  was  speeding  them  onward.  Aunt 
Lisbeth  was  not  to  be  moved.  She  alone  held  down  her 
head.  She  looked  not  Gottlieb  in  the  face  as  he  embraced 
her.  Nor  to  any  questioning  would  she  vouchsafe  reply. 
From  that  time  forth,  she  was  charity  to  woman  ;  and  the 
exuberant  cheerfulness  and  familiarity  of  the  men  toward 
her  soon  grew  kindly  and  respectful.  The  dragon  in  Aunt 
Lisbeth  was  destroyed.  She  objected  no  more  to  Marga- 
rita's cameo. 

The  Goshawk  quickly  made  peace  with  his  lord,  and 
enjoyed  the  commendation  of  the  Kaiser.  Dietrich  Schill 
thought  of  challenging  him;  but  the  Club  had  graver 
business:  and  this  was  to  pass  sentence  on  Berthold 
Schmidt  for  the  crime  of  betraying  the  White  Kose  into 
the  hands  of  Werner.  They  had  found  Berthold  at  the 
Eck,  and  there  consented  to  let  him  remain  until  ransom 
was  paid  for  his  traitorous  body.  Berthold  in  his  mad 
passion  was  tricked  by  Werner,  and  on  his  release,  by 
payment  of  the  ransom,  submitted  to  the  judgement  of  the 
Club,  which  condemned  him  to  fight  them  all  in  turn,  and 
then  endure  banishment  from  Rhineland ;  the  Goshawk,  fof 
his  sister's  sake,  interceding  before  a  harsher  tribunal. 


254  FARINA 


THE   ENTRY   INTO   COLOGNE 

Seven  days  Kaiser  Heinrich  remained  camped  outside 
Cologne.  Six  times  in  six  successive  days  the  Kaiser 
attempted  to  enter  the  city,  and  was  foiled. 

"  Beard  of  Barbarossa ! "  said  the  Kaiser,  "  this  is  the 
first  stronghold  that  ever  resisted  me." 

The  warrior  bishops,  electors,  pfalzgrafs,  and  knights  of 
the  Empire,  all  swore  it  was  no  shame  not  to  be  a  match 
for  the  Demon. 

"  If,"  said  the  reflective  Kaiser,  "  we  are  to  suffer  below 
what  poor  Cologne  is  doomed  to  undergo  now,  let  us,  by  all 
that  is  savoury,  reform  and  do  penance." 

The  wind  just  then  setting  on  them  dead  from  Cologne 
made  the  courtiers  serious.  Many  thought  of  their  souls 
for  the  first  time. 

This  is  recorded  to  the  honour  of  Monk  Gregory. 

On  the  seventh  morning,  the  Kaiser  announced  his 
determination  to  make  a  last  trial. 

It  was  dawn,  and  a  youth  stood  before  the  Kaiser's  tent, 
praying  an  audience. 

Conducted  into  the  presence  of  the  Kaiser,  the  youth, 
they  say,  succeeded  in  arousing  him  from  his  depression,  for, 
brave  as  he  was,  Kaiser  Heinrich  dreaded  the  issue. 
Forthwith  order  was  given  for  the  cavalcade  to  set  out 
according  to  the  rescript,  Kaiser  Heinrich  retaining  the 
youth  at  his  right  hand.  But  the  youth  had  found  occa- 
sion to  visit  Gottlieb  and  Margarita,  each  of  whom  he 
furnished  with  a  flask,  curiously  shaped,  and  charged  with 
a  distillation. 

As  the  head  of  the  procession  reached  the  gates  of 
Cologne,  symptoms  of  wavering  were  manifest. 

Kaiser  Heinrich  commanded  an  advance,  at  all  cost. 

Pfalzgraf  Nase,  as  the  old  chronicles  call  him  in  their 
humour,  but  assuredly  a  great  noble,  led  the  van,  and 
pushed  across  the  draw-bridge. 


THE   ENTRY   INTO   COLOGNE  255 

Hesitation  and  signs  of  horror  were  manifest  in  the 
assemblage  round  the  Kaiser's  person.  The  Kaiser  and  the 
youth  at  his  right  hand  were  cheery.  Not  a  whit  drooped 
they !  Several  of  the  heroic  knights  begged  the  Kaiser's 
permission  to  fall  back. 

"Follow  Pfalzgraf  Nase!"  the  Kaiser  is  reported  to 
have  said. 

Great  was  the  wonderment  of  the  people  of  Cologne  to 
behold  Kaiser  Heinrich  riding  in  perfect  stateliness  up  the 
main  street  toward  the  Cathedral,  while  right  and  left  of 
him  bishops  and  electors  were  dropping  incapable. 

The  Kaiser  advanced  till  by  his  side  the  youth  rode  sole. 

"  Thy  name  ?  "  said  the  Kaiser. 

He  answered :  "  A  poor  youth,  unconquerable  Kaiser ! 
Farina  I  am  called." 

"  Thy  recompense  ?  "  said  the  Kaiser. 

He  answered  :  "  The  hand  of  a  maiden  of  Cologne,  most 
gracious  Kaiser  and  master !  " 

"  She  is  thine !  "  said  the  Kaiser. 

Kaiser  Heinrich  looked  behind  him,  and  among  a  host 
grasping  the  pommels  of  their  saddles,  and  reeling  van- 
quished, were  but  two  erect,  a  maiden  and  an  old  man. 

"  That  is  she,  unconquerable  Kaiser !  "  Farina  continued, 
bowing  low. 

"  It  shall  be  arranged  on  the  spot,"  said  the  Kaiser. 

A  word  from  Kaiser  Heinrich  sealed  Gottlieb's  com- 
pliance. 

Said  he :  "  Gracious  Kaiser  and  master !  though  such  a 
youth  could  of  himself  never  have  aspired  to  the  possession 
of  a  Groschen,  yet  when  the  Kaiser  pleads  for  him,  objec- 
tion is  as  the  rock  of  Moses,  and  streams  consent.  Truly 
he  has  done  Cologne  good  service,  and  if  Margarita,  my 
daughter,  can  be  persuaded  —  " 

The  Kaiser  addressed  her  with  his  blazing  brows. 

Margarita  blushed  a  ready  autumn  of  rosy-ripe  acquies- 
cence. 

"A  marriage  registered  yonder!"  said  the  Kaiser,  point- 
ing upward. 

"  I  am  thine,"  murmured  Margarita,  as  Farina  drew  near 
her. 

"Seal  it!   seal  it!"  quoth  the  Kaiser,  in  hearty  good 


256  FARINA 

humour;  "take  no  consent  from  man  or  maid  without  a 
seal." 

Farina  tossed  the  contents  of  a  flask  in  air,  and  saluted 
his  beloved  on  the  lips. 

This  scene  took  place  near  the  charred  round  of  earth 
where  the  Foulest  descended  to  his  kingdom  below. 

Men  now  pervaded  Cologne  with  flasks,  purifying  the 
atmosphere.     It  became  possible  to  breathe  freely. 

"  We  Germans,"  said  Kaiser  Heinrich,  when  he  was  again 
surrounded  by  his  courtiers,  "  may  go  wrong  if  we  always 
follow  Pfalzgraf  Nase  ;  but  this  time  we  have  been  well 
led."     Whereat  there  was  obsequious  laughter. 

The  Pfalzgraf  pleaded  a  susceptible  nostril. 

"  Thou  art,  I  fear,  but  a  timid  mortal,"  said  the  Kaiser. 

"Never  have  I  been  found  so  on  the  German  Field, 
Imperial  Majesty !  "  returned  the  Pfalzgraf.  "  I  take  glory 
to  myself  that  this  Nether  reek  overcomes  me." 

"Even  that  we  must  combat,  you  see  !  "  exclaimed  Kaiser 
Heinrich  ;  "  but  come  all  to  a  marriage  this  night,  and  take 
brides  as  soon  as  you  will,  all  of  you.  Increase,  and  give 
us  loyal  subjects  in  plenty.  I  count  prosperity  by  the 
number  of  marriages  in  my  empire !  " 

The  White  Rose  Club  were  invited  by  Gottlieb  to  the 
wedding,  and  took  it  in  vast  wrath  until  they  saw  the 
Kaiser,  and  such  excellent  stout  German  fare  present, 
when  immediately  a  battle  raged  as  to  who  should  do  the 
event  most  honour,  and  was  in  dispute  till  dawn :  Dietrich 
Schill  being  the  man,  he  having  consumed  wurst  the  length 
of  his  arm,  and  wine  sufficient  to  have  floated  a  St.  Goar 
salmon  ;  which  was  long  proudly  chronicled  in  his  family, 
and  is  now  unearthed  from  among  the  ancient  honourable 
records  of  Cologne. 

The  Goshawk  was  Farina's  bridesman,  and  a  very  spirit- 
ing bridesman  was  he!  Aunt  Lisbeth  sat  in  a  corner, 
faintly  smiling. 

t "  Child !  "  said  the  little  lady  to  Margarita  when  they 
kissed  at  parting,  "  your  courage  amazes  me.  Do  you  think  ? 
Do  you  know  ?  Poor  sweet  bird,  delivered  over  hand  and 
foot !  " 

"I  love  him!  I  love  him,  aunty!  that's  all  I  know," 
said  Margarita:  "love,  love,  love  him!" 


CONCLUSION  257 

"Heaven help  you!"  ejaculated  Aunt  Lisbeth. 

"  Pray  with  me,"  said  Margarita. 

The  two  knelt  at  the  foot  of  the  bride-bed,  and  prayed 
very  different  prayers,  but  to  the  same  end.  That  done, 
Aunt  Lisbeth  helped  undress  the  White  Rose,  and  trembled, 
and  told  a  sad  nuptial  anecdote  of  the  Castle,  and  put  her 
little  shrivelled  hand  on  Margarita's  heart,  and  shrieked. 

"  Child  !  it  gallops  !  "  she  cried. 

"  'T  is  happiness,"  said  Margarita,  standing  in  her  hair. 

"  May  it  last  only  !  "  exclaimed  Aunt  Lisbeth. 

"  It  will,  aunty  !  I  am  humble  :  I  am  true ;  "  and  the 
fair  girl  gathered  the  frill  of  her  nightgown. 

"  Look  not  in  the  glass,"  said  Lisbeth ;  "  not  to-night ! 
Look,  if  you  can,  to-morrow." 

She  smoothed  the  White  Rose  in  her  bed,  tucked  her  up, 
and  kissed  her,  leaving  her  as  a  bud  that  waits  for 
sunshine. 


CONCLUSION 


The  shadow  of  Monk  Gregory  was  seen  no  more  in  Cologne. 
He  entered  the  Calendar,  and  ranks  next  St.  Anthony. 
For  three  successive  centuries  the  towns  of  Rhineland 
boasted  his  visits  in  the  flesh,  and  the  conqueror  of  Dark- 
ness caused  dire  Rhenish  feuds. 

The  Tailed  Infernal  repeated  his  famous  Back-blow  on 
Farina.  The  youth  awoke  one  morning  and  beheld  ware- 
houses the  exact  pattern  of  his  own,  displaying  flasks 
shaped  even  as  his  own,  and  a  Farina  to  right  and  left  of 
him.  In  a  week,  they  were  doubled.  A  month  quadrupled 
them.     They  increased. 

"Fame  and  Fortune,"  mused  Farina,  "come  from  man 
and  the  world.  Love  is  from  heaven.  We  may  be  worthy, 
and  lose  the  first.  We  lose  not  love  unless  unworthy. 
Would  ye  know  the  true  Farina  ?  Look  for  him  who  walks 
under  the  seal  of  bliss  :  whose  darling  is  for  ever  his  young 
sweet  bride,  leading  him  from  snares,  priming  his  soul  with 
celestial  freshness.     There  is  no  hypocrisy  can  ape  that 

17 


2ft  8  F  AKIN  A 

aspect.     Least  of  all,  the  creatures  of  the  Damned!     By 
this  I  may  be  known." 

Seven  years  after,  when  the  Goshawk  came  into  Cologne 
to  see  old  friends,  and  drink  some  of  Gottlieb's  oldest 
Rudesheimer,  he  was  waylaid  by  false  Farinas ;  and  only 
discovered  the  true  one  at  last,  by  chance,  in  the  music- 
gardens  near  the  Rhine,  where  Farina  sat,  having  on  one 
hand  Margarita,  and  at  his  feet  three  boys  and  one  girl, 
over  whom  both  bent  lovingly,  like  the  parent  vine  fondling 
its  grape  bunches  in  summer  light. 


THE  CASE  OF  GENERAL  OPLE  AND 
LADY  CAMPER 


THE  CASE  OF  GENERAL  OPLE  AND 
LADY  CAMPER 


CHAPTER  I 


An  excursion  beyond  the  immediate  suburbs  of  London, 
projected  long  before  his  pony-carriage  was  hired  to  con- 
duct him,  in  fact  ever  since  his  retirement  from  active 
service,  led  General  Ople  across  a  famous  common,  with 
which  he  fell  in  love  at  once,  to  a  lofty  highway  along  the 
borders  of  a  park,  for  which  he  promptly  exchanged  his 
heart,  and  so  gradually  within  a  stone's-throw  or  so  of 
the  river-side,  where  he  determined  not  solely  to  bestow 
his  affections  but  to  settle  for  life.  It  may  be  seen  that 
he  was  of  an  adventurous  temperament,  though  he  had 
thought  fit  to  loosen  his  sword-belt.  The  pony-carriage, 
however,  had  been  hired  for  the  very  special  purpose  of 
helping  him  to  pass  in  review  the  lines  of  what  he  called 
country  houses,  cottages,  or  even  sites  for  building,  not  too 
remote  from  sweet  London:  and  as  when  Coelebs  goes 
forth  intending  to  pursue  and  obtain,  there  is  no  doubt  of 
his  bringing  home  a  wife,  the  circumstance  that  there 
stood  a  house  to  let,  in  an  airy  situation,  at  a  certain  dis- 
tance in  hail  of  the  metropolis  he  worshipped,  was  enough 
to  kindle  the  General's  enthusiasm.  He  would  have  taken 
the  first  he  saw,  had  it  not  been  for  his  daughter,  who 
accompanied  him,  and  at  the  age  of  eighteen  was  about  to 
undertake  the  management  of  his  house.  Fortune,  under 
Elizabeth  Opie's  guiding  restraint,  directed  him  to  an 
epitome  of  the  comforts.  The  place  he  fell  upon  is  only  to 
be  described  in  the  tongue  of  auctioneers,  and  for  the  first 
week  after  taking  it  he  modestly  followed  them  by  terming 
it  bijou.     In  time,  when  his  own  imagination,  instigated  by 


262  THE  CASE   OF   GENERAL  OPLE 

a  state  of  something  more  than  mere  contentment,  had 
been  at  work  on  it,  he  chose  the  happy  phrase,  "a  gentle- 
manly residence."  For  it  was,  he  declared,  a  small  estate. 
There  was  a  lodge  to  it,  resembling  two  sentry-boxes  forced 
into  union,  where  in  one  half  an  old  couple  sat  bent,  in  the 
other  half  lay  compressed ;  there  was  a  back-drive  to  dis- 
coverable stables ;  there  was  a  bit  of  grass  that  would  have 
appeared  a  meadow  if  magnified ;  and  there  was  a  wall 
round  the  kitchen-garden  and  a  strip  of  wood  round  the 
flower-garden.  The  prying  of  the  outside  world  was  im- 
possible. Comfort,  fortification,  and  gentlemanliness  made 
the  place,  as  the  General  said,  an  ideal  English  home. 

The  compass  of  the  estate  was  half  an  acre,  and  perhaps 
a  perch  or  two,  just  the  size  for  the  hugging  love  General 
Ople  was  happiest  in  giving.  He  wisely  decided  to  retain 
the  old  couple  at  the  lodge,  whose  members  were  used  to 
restriction,  and  also  not  to  purchase  a  cow,  that  would  have 
wanted  pasture.  With  the  old  man,  while  the  old  woman 
attended  to  the  bell  at  the  handsome  front  entrance  with 
its  gilt-spiked  gates,  he  undertook  to  do  the  gardening ;  a 
business  he  delighted  in,  so  long  as  he  could  perform  it  in 
a  gentlemanly  manner,  that  is  to  say,  so  long  as  he  was  not 
overlooked.  He  was  perfectly  concealed  from  the  road. 
Only  one  house,  and  curiously  indeed,  only  one  window  of 
the  house,  and  further  to  show  the  protection  extended  to 
Douro  Lodge,  that  window  an  attic,  overlooked  him.  And 
the  house  was  empty. 

The  house  (for  who  can  hope,  and  who  should  desire  a 
commodious  house,  with  conservatories,  aviaries,  pond  and 
boat-shed,  and  other  joys  of  wealth,  to  remain  unoccupied) 
was  taken  two  seasons  later  by  a  lady,  of  whom  Fame, 
rolling  like  a  dust-cloud  from  the  place  she  had  left,  re- 
ported that  she  was  eccentric.  The  word  is  uninstructive  : 
it  does  not  frighten.  In  a  lady  of  a  certain  age,  it  is 
rather  a  characteristic  of  aristocracy  in  retirement.  And 
at  least  it  implies  wealth. 

General  Ople  was  very  anxious  to  see  her.  He  had  the 
sentiment  of  humble  respectfulness  toward  aristocracy, 
and  there  was  that  in  riches  which  aroused  his  admi- 
ration. London,  for  instance,  he  was  not  afraid  to  say  he 
thought  the  wonder  of  the  world.     He  remarked,  in  addi* 


AND   LADY   CAMPER  263 

tion,  that  the  sacking  of  London  would  suffice  to  make 
every  common  soldier  of  the  foreign  army  of  occupation  an 
independent  gentleman  for  the  term  of  his  natural  days. 
But  this  is  a  nightmare !  said  he,  startling  himself  with  an 
abhorrent  dream  of  envy  of  those  enriched  invading  officers : 
for  Booty  is  the  one  lovely  thing  which  the  military  mind 
can  contemplate  in  the  abstract.  His  habit  was  to  go  off  in 
an  explosion  of  heavy  sighs,  when  he  had  delivered  himself 
so  far,  like  a  man  at  war  with  himself. 

The  lady  arrived  in  time :  she  received  the  cards  of  the 
neighbourhood,  and  signalized  her  eccentricity  by  paying 
no  attention  to  thein,  excepting  the  card  of  a  Mrs.  Baerens, 
who  had  audience  of  her  at  once.  By  express  arrangement, 
the  card  of  General  Wilson  Ople,  as  her  nearest  neighbour- 
followed  the  card  of  the  rector,  the  social  head  of  the 
district ;  and  the  rector  was  granted  an  interview,  but 
Lady  Camper  was  not  at  home  to  General  Ople.  She  is  of 
superior  station  to  me,  and  may  not  wish  to  associate  with 
me,  the  General  modestly  said.  Nevertheless  he  was 
wounded :  for  in  spite  of  himself,  and  without  the  slightest 
wish  to  obtrude  his  own  person,  as  he  explained  the  mean- 
ing that  he  had  in  him,  his  rank  in  the  British  army  forced 
him  to  be  the  representative  of  it,  in  the  absence  of  any 
one  of  a  superior  rank.  So  that  he  was  professionally  hurt, 
and  his  heart  being  in  his  profession,  it  may  be  honestly 
stated  that  he  was  wounded  in  his  feelings,  though  he  said 
no,  and  insisted  on  the  distinction.  Once  a  day  his  walk 
for  constitutional  exercise  compelled  him  to  pass  before 
Lady  Camper's  windows,  which  were  not  bashfully  with- 
drawn, as  he  said  humorously  of  Douro  Lodge,  in  the 
seclusion  of  half-pay,  but  bowed  out  imperiously,  militarily, 
like  a  generalissimo  on  horseback,  and  had  full  command 
of  the  road  and  levels  up  to  the  swelling  park-foliage.  He 
went  by  at  a  smart  stride,  with  a  delicate  depression  of  his 
upright  bearing,  as  though  hastening  to  greet  a  friend  in 
view,  whose  hand  was  getting  ready  for  the  shake.  This 
much  would  have  been  observed  by  a  housemaid  ;  and  con- 
sidering his  fine  figure  and  the  peculiar  shining  silveriness 
of  his  hair,  the  acceleration  of  his  gait  was  noticeable. 
When  he  drove  by,  the  pony's  right  ear  was  flicked,  to  the 
extreme  indignation  of  a  mettlesome  little   animal.     It 


264  THE  CASE  OF   GENERAL  OPLE 

ensued  in  consequence  that  the  General  was  borne  flying 
under  the  eyes  of  Lady  Camper,  and  such  pace  displeasing 
him,  he  reduced  it  invariably  at  a  step  or  two  beyond  the 
corner  of  her  grounds. 

But  neither  he  nor  his  daughter  Elizabeth  attached  im- 
portance to  so  trivial  a  circumstance.  The  General  punc- 
tiliously avoided  glancing  at  the  windows  during  the  passage 
past  them,  whether  in  his  wild  career  or  on  foot.  Eliza- 
beth took  a  side-shot,  as  one  looks  at  a  wayside  tree.  Their 
speech  concerning  Lady  Camper  was  an  exchange  of  com- 
monplaces over  her  loneliness  :  and  this  condition  of  hers 
was  the  more  perplexing  to  General  Ople  on  his  hearing 
from  his  daughter  that  the  lady  was  very  fine-looking,  and 
not  so  very  old,  as  he  had  fancied  eccentric  ladies  must  be. 
The  rector's  account  of  her,  too,  excited  the  mind.  She 
had  informed  him  bluntly,  that  she  now  and  then  went  to 
church  to  save  appearances,  but  was  not  a  church-goer, 
finding  it  impossible  to  support  the  length  of  the  service  ; 
might,  however,  be  reckoned  in  subscriptions  for  all  the 
charities,  and  left  her  pew  open  to  poor  people,  and  none 
but  the  poor.  She  had  travelled  over  Europe,  and  knew 
the  East.  Sketches  in  water-colours  of  the  scenes  she  had 
visited  adorned  her  walls,  and  a  pair  of  pistols,  that  she 
had  found  useful,  she  affirmed,  lay  on  the  writing-desk  in 
her  drawing-room.  General  Ople  gathered  from  the  rector 
that  she  had  a  great  contempt  for  men :  yet  it  was  curiously 
varied  with  lamentations  over  the  weakness  of  women. 
"  Eeally  she  cannot  possibly  be  an  example  of  that/*'  said 
the  General,  thinking  of  the  pistols. 

Now,  we  learn  from  those  who  have  studied  women  on 
the  chess-board,  and  know  what  ebony  or  ivory  will  do 
along  particular  lines,  or  hopping,  that  men  much  talked 
about  will  take  possession  of  their  thoughts;  and  certainly 
the  fact  may  be  accepted  for  one  of  their  moves.  But  the 
whole  fabric  of  our  knowledge  of  them,  which  we  are 
taught  to  build  on  this  originally  acute  perception,  is  shat- 
tered when  we  hear,  that  it  is  exactly  the  same,  in  the  same 
degree,  in  proportion  to  the  amount  of  work  they  have  to 
do,  exactly  the  same  with  men  and  their  thoughts  in  the 
case  of  women  much  talked  about.  So  it  was  with  General 
Ople,  and  nothing  is  left  for  me  to  say  except,  that  there  is 


AND   LADY  CAMPER  265 

broader  ground  than  the  chess-board.  I  am  earnest  in  pro- 
testing the  similarity  of  the  singular  couples  on  common 
earth,  because  otherwise  the  General  is  in  peril  of  the  accu- 
sation that  he  is  a  feminine  character;  and  not  simply  was 
he  a  gallant  officer,  and  a  veteran  in  gunpowder  strife,  he 
was  also  (and  it  is  an  extraordinary  thing  that  a  genuine 
humility  did  not  prevent  it,  and  did  survive  it)  a  lord  and 
conqueror  of  the  sex.  He  had  done  his  pretty  bit  of  mis- 
chief, all  in  the  way  of  honour,  of  course,  but  hearts  had 
knocked.  And  now,  with  his  bright  white  hair,  his  close- 
brushed  white  whiskers  on  a  face  burnt  brown,  his  clear-cut 
features,  and  a  winning  droop  of  his  eyelids,  there  was 
powder  in  him  still,  if  not  shot. 

There  was  a  lamentable  susceptibility  to  ladies'  charms. 
On  the  other  hand,  for  the  protection  of  the  sex,  a  re- 
mainder of  shyness  kept  him  from  active  enterprise  and  in 
the  state  of  suffering,  so  long  as  indications  of  encourage- 
ment were  wanting.  He  had  killed  the  soft  ones,  who 
came  to  him,  attracted  by  the  softness  in  him,  to  be  killed: 
but  clever  women  alarmed  and  paralyzed  him.  Their  apt- 
ness to  question  and  require  immediate  sparkling  answers ; 
their  demand  for  fresh  wit,  of  a  kind  that  is  not  furnished 
by  publications  which  strike  it  into  heads  with  a  hammer, 
and  supply  it  wholesale  ;  their  various  reading ;  their  power 
of  ridicule  too ;  made  them  awful  in  his  contemplation. 

Supposing  (for  the  inflammable  officer  was  now  thinking, 
and  deeply  thinking,  of  a  clever  woman),  supposing  that 
Lady  Camper's  pistols  were  needed  in.  her  defence  one 
night :  at  the  first  report  proclaiming  her  extremity,  valour 
might  gain  an  introduction  to  her  upon  easy  terms,  and 
would  not  be  expected  to  be  witty.  She  would,  perhaps, 
after  the  excitement,  admit  his  masculine  superiority,  in 
the  beautiful  old  fashion,  by  fainting  in  his  arms.  Such 
was  the  reverie  he  passingly  indulged,  and  only  so  could  he 
venture  to  hope  for  an  acquaintance  with  the  formidable 
lady  who  was  his  next  neighbour.  But  the  proud  society 
of  the  burglarious  denied  him  opportunity. 

Meanwhile,  he  learnt  that  Lady  Camper  had  a  nephew, 
and  the  young  gentleman  was  in  a  cavalry  regiment.  Gen- 
eral Ople  met  him  outside  his  gates,  received  and  returned 
a  polite  salute,  liked  his   appearance   and  manners,  and 


266  THE  CASE  OF   GENERAL  OPLE 

talked  of  him  to  Elizabeth,  asking  her  if  by  chance  she  had 
seen  him.  She  replied  that  she  believed  she  had,  and  praised 
his  horsemanship.  The  General  discovered  that  he  was  an 
excellent  sculler.  His  daughter  was  rowing  him  up  the  river 
when  the  young  gentleman  shot  by,  with  a  splendid  stroke, 
in  an  outrigger,  backed,  and  floating  alongside  presumed  to 
enter  into  conversation,  during  which  he  managed  to  express 
regrets  at  his  aunt's  turn  for  solitariness.  As  they  be- 
longed to  sister  branches  of  the  same  Service,  the  General 
and  Mr.  Reginald  Holies  had  a  theme  in  common,  and  a 
passion.  Elizabeth  told  her  father  that  nothing  afforded 
her  so  much  pleasure  as  to  hear  him  talk  with  Mr.  Rolles 
on  military  matters.  General  Ople  assured  her  that  it 
pleased  him  likewise.  He  began  to  spy  about  for  Mr. 
Rolles,  and  it  sometimes  occurred  that  they  conversed  across 
the  wall ;  it  could  hardly  be  avoided.  A  hint  or  two,  an 
undefinable  flying  allusion,  gave  the  General  to  understand 
that  Lady  Camper  had  not  been  happy  in  her  marriage. 
He  was  pained  to  think  of  her  misfortune  ;  but  as  she  was 
not  over  forty,  the  disaster  was,  perhaps,  not  irremediable ; 
that  is  to  say,  if  she  could  be  taught  to  extend  her  forgive- 
ness to  men,  and  abandon  her  solitude.  "  If,"  he  said  to 
his  daughter,  "  Lady  Camper  should  by  any  chance  be  in- 
duced to  contract  a  second  alliance,  she  would,  one  might 
expect,  be  humanized,  and  we  should  have  highly  agreeable 
neighbours."  Elizabeth  artlessly  hoped  for  such  an  event 
to  take  place. 

She  rarely  differed  with  her  father,  up  to  whom,  taking 
example  from  the  world  around  him,  she  looked  as  the 
pattern  of  a  man  of  wise  conduct. 

And  he  was  one;  and  though  modest,  he  was  in  good 
humour  with  himself,  approved  himself,  and  could  say, 
that  without  boasting  of  success,  he  was  a  satisfied  man, 
until  he  met  his  touchstone  in  Lady  Camper. 


AND   LADY   CAMPER  267 


CHAPTER  II 

This  is  the  pathetic  matter  of  my  story,  and  it  requires 
pointing  out,  because  he  never  could  explain  what  it  was 
that  seemed  to  him  so  cruel  in  it,  for  he  was  no  brilliant 
son  of  fortune,  he  was  no  great  pretender,  none  of  those 
who  are  logically  displaced  from  the  heights  they  have 
been  raised  to,  manifestly  created  to  show  the  moral  in 
Providence.  He  was  modest,  retiring,  humbly  contented; 
a  gentlemanly  residence  appeased  his  ambition.  Popular, 
he  could  own  that  he  was,  but  not  meteorically;  rather  by 
reason  of  his  willingness  to  receive  light  than  his  desire  to 
shed  it.  Why,  then,  was  the  terrible  test  brought  to  bear 
upon  him,  of  all  men  ?  He  was  one  of  us ;  no  worse,  and 
not  strikingly  or  perilously  better ;  and  he  could  not  but 
feel,  in  the  bitterness  of  his  reflections  upon  an  inexpli- 
cable destiny,  that  the  punishment  befalling  him,  un- 
merited as  it  was,  looked  like  absence  of  Design  in  the 
scheme  of  things  Above.  It  looked  as  if  the  blow  had 
been  dealt  him  by  reckless  chance.  And  to  believe  that, 
was  for  the  mind  of  General  Ople  the  having  to  return  to 
his  alphabet  and  recommence  the  ascent  of  the  laborious 
mountain  of  understanding. 

To  proceed,  the  General's  introduction  to  Lady  Camper 
was  owing  to  a  message  she  sent  him  by  her  gardener, 
with  a  request  that  he  would  cut  down  a  branch  of  a  wych- 
elm,  obscuring  her  view  across  his  grounds  toward  the 
river.  The  General  consulted  with  his  daughter,  and 
came  to  the  conclusion,  that  as  he  could  hardly  despatch  a 
written  reply  to  a  verbal  message,  yet  greatly  wished  to 
subscribe  to  the  wishes  of  Lady  Camper,  the  best  thing  for 
him  to  do  was  to  apply  for  an  interview.  He  sent  word 
that  he  would  wait  on  Lady  Camper  immediately,  and 
betook  himself  forthwith  to  his  toilette.  She  was  the 
niece  of  an  earl. 

Elizabeth  commended  his  appearance,  "passed  him,"  as 
he  would  have  said;  and  well  she  might,  for  his  hat, 
surtout,  trousers  and  boots,  were  worthy  of  an  introduction 


268  THE  CASE  OF   GENERAL   OPLE 

to  Royalty.  A  touch  of  scarlet  silk  round  the  neck  gave 
him  bloom,  and  better  than  that,  the  blooming  conscious- 
ness of  it. 

"You  are  not  to  be  nervous,  papa,"  Elizabeth  said. 

"Not  at  all,"  replied  the  General.  "I  say,  not  at  all, 
my  dear,"  he  repeated,  and  so  betrayed  that  he  had  fallen 
into  the  nervous  mood.  "I  was  saying,  I  have  known 
worse  mornings  than  this."  He  turned  to  her  and  smiled 
brightly,  nodded,  and  set  his  face  to  meet  the  future. 

He  was  absent  an  hour  and  a  half. 

He  came  back  with  his  radiance  a  little  subdued,  by  no 
means  eclipsed ;  as,  when  experience  has  afforded  us  matter 
for  thought,  we  cease  to  shine  dazzlingly,  yet  are  not 
clouded;  the  rays  have  merely  grown  serener.  The  sum 
of  his  impressions  was  conveyed  in  the  reflective  utterance 
—  "It  only  shows,  my  dear,  how  different  the  reality  is 
from  our  anticipation  of  it ! " 

Lady  Camper  had  been  charming;  full  of  condescension, 
neighbourly,  friendly,  willing  to  be  satisfied  with  the 
sacrifice  of  the  smallest  branch  of  the  wych-elm,  and  only 
requiring  that  much  for  complimentary  reasons. 

Elizabeth  wished  to  hear  what  they  were,  and  she  thought 
the  request  rather  singular;  but  the  General  begged  her  to 
bear  in  mind,  that  they  were  dealing  with  a  very  extraor- 
dinary woman;  "highly  accomplished,  really  exceedingly 
handsome,"  he  said  to  himself,  aloud. 

The  reasons  were,  her  liking  for  air  and  view,  and  desire 
to  see  into  her  neighbour's  grounds  without  having  to 
mount  to  the  attic. 

Elizabeth  gave  a  slight  exclamation,  and  blushed. 

"  So,  my  dear,  we  are  objects  of  interest  to  her  ladyship," 
said  the  General. 

He  assured  her  that  Lady  Camper's  manners  were  de- 
lightful. Strange  to  tell,  she  knew  a  great  deal  of  his 
antecedent  history,  things  he  had  not  supposed  were 
known;  "little  matters,"  he  remarked,  by  which  his 
daughter  faintly  conceived  a  reference  to  the  conquests  of 
his  dashing  days.  Lady  Camper  had  deigned  to  impart 
some  of  her  own,  incidentally;  that  she  was  of  Welsh 
blood,  and  born  among  the  mountains.  "She  has  a 
romantic  look,"  was  the  General's  comment;  and  that  hex 


AND  LADY  CAMPER  260 

husband  had  been  an  insatiable  traveller  before  he  became 
an  invalid,  and  had  never  cared  for  Art.  "  Quite  an 
extraordinary  circumstance,  with  such  a  wife!"  the  Gen- 
eral said. 

He  fell  upon  the  wych-elm  with  his  own  hands,  under 
cover  of  the  leafage,  and  the  next  day  he  paid  his  respects 
to  Lady  Camper,  to  inquire  if  her  ladyship  saw  any  further 
obstruction  to  the  view. 

"None,"  she  replied.  "And  now  we  shall  see  what  the 
two  birds  will  do." 

Apparently,  then,  she  entertained  an  animosity  to  a  pair 
of  birds  in  the  tree. 

"Yes,  yes;  I  say  they  chirp  early  in  the  morning,"  said 
General  Ople. 

"At  all  hours." 

"The  song  of  birds  ?  .   .  ."he  pleaded  softly  for  nature. 

"If  the  nest  is  provided  for  them;  but  I  don't  like  vaga- 
bond chirping." 

The  General  perfectly  acquiesced.  This,  in  an  engage- 
ment with  a  clever  woman,  is  what  you  should  do,  or  else 
you  are  likely  to  find  yourself  planted  unawares  in  a  high 
wind,  your  hat  blown  off,  and  your  coat-tails  anywhere; 
in  other  words,  you  will  stand  ridiculous  in  your  bewilder' 
ment;  and  General  Ople  ever  footed  with  the  utmost 
caution  to  avoid  that  quagmire  of  the  ridiculous.  The 
extremer  quags  he  had  hitherto  escaped;  the  smaller, 
into  which  he  fell  in  his  agile  evasions  of  the  big,  he 
had  hitherto  been  blest  in  finding  none  to  notice. 

He  requested  her  ladyship's  permission  to  present  his 
daughter.     Lady  Camper  sent  in  her  card. 

Elizabeth  Ople  beheld  a  tall,  handsomely -mannered  lady, 
with  good  features  and  penetrating  dark  eyes,  an  easy 
carriage  of  her  person  and  an  agreeable  voice,  but  (the 
vision  of  her  age  flashed  out  under  the  compelling  eyes  of 
youth)  fifty  if  a  day.  The  rich  colouring  confessed  to  it. 
But  she  was  very  pleasing,  and  Elizabeth's  perception 
dwelt  on  it  only  because  her  father's  manly  chivalry  had 
defended  the  lady  against  one  year  more  than  forty. 

The  richness  of  the  colouring,  Elizabeth  feared,  was 
artificial,  and  it  caused  her  ingenuous  young  blood  a 
shudder.     For  we  are  so  devoted  to  nature  when  the  dame 


270  THE  CASE   OF   GENEEAL  OPLE 

is  flattering  us  with  her  gifts,  that  we  loathe  the  substitute, 
omitting  to  think  how  much  less  it  is  an  imposition  than 
a  form  of  practical  adoration  of  the  genuine. 

Our  young  detective,  however,  concealed  her  emotion  of 
childish  horror. 

Lady  Camper  remarked  of  her,  "  She  seems  honest,  and 
that  is  the  most  we  can  hope  of  girls." 

"She  is  a  jewel  for  an  honest  man,"  the  General  sighed, 
"  some  day !  " 

"  Let  us  hope  it  will  be  a  distant  day." 

"Yet,"  said  the  General,  "girls  expect  to  marry." 

Lady  Camper  fixed  her  black  eyes  on  him,  but  did  not 
speak. 

He  told  Elizabeth  that  her  ladyship's  eyes  were  exceed- 
ingly searching:  "Only,"  said  he,  "as  I  have  nothing  to 
hide,  I  am  able  to  submit  to  inspection;"  and  he  laughed 
slightly  up  to  an  arresting  cough,  and  made  the  mantel- 
piece ornaments  pass  muster. 

General  Ople  was  the  hero  to  champion  a  lady  whose  airs 
of  haughtiness  caused  her  to  be  somewhat  backbitten.  He 
assured  everybody,  that  Lady  Camper  was  much  misun- 
derstood; she  was  a  most  remarkable  woman;  she  was  a 
most  affable  and  highly  intelligent  lady.  Building  up  her 
attributes  on  a  splendid  climax,  he  declared  she  was  pious, 
charitable,  witty,  and  really  an  extraordinary  artist.  He 
laid  particular  stress  on  her  artistic  qualities,  describing 
her  power  with  the  brush,  her  water-colour  sketches,  and 
also  some  immensely  clever  caricatures.  As  he  talked 
of  no  one  else,  his  friends  heard  enough  of  Lady  Camper, 
who  was  anything  but  a  favourite.  The  Pollingtons,  the 
Wilders,  the  Wardens,  the  Baerens,  the  Goslings,  and 
others  of  his  acquaintance,  talked  of  Lady  Camper  and 
General  Ople  rather  maliciously.  They  were  all  City 
people,  and  they  admired  the  General,  but  mourned  that 
he  should  so  abjectly  have  fallen  at  the  feet  of  a  lady 
as  red  with  rouge  as  a  railway  bill.  His  not  seeing  it 
showed  the  state  he  was  in.  The  sister  of  Mrs.  Pollington, 
an  amiable  widow,  relict  of  a  large  City  warehouse,  named 
Barcop,  was  chilled  by  a  falling  off  in  his  attentions.  His 
apology  for  not  appearing  at  garden  parties  was,  that  he 
was  engaged  to  wait  on  Lady  Camper. 


AND  LADY  CAMPER  271 

And  at  one  time,  her  not  condescending  to  exchange 
visits  with  the  obsequious  General  was  a  topic  fertile  in 
irony.     But  she  did  condescend. 

Lady  Camper  came  to  his  gate  unexpectedly,  rang  the 
bell,  and  was  let  in  like  an  ordinary  visitor.  It  happened 
that  the  General  was  gardening  —  not  the  pretty  occupation 
of  pruning,  he  was  digging  —  and  of  necessity  his  coat  was 
off,  and  he  was  hot,  dusty,  unpresentable.  From  adoring 
earth  as  the  mother  of  roses,  you  may  pass  into  a  lady's 
presence  without  purification;  you  cannot  (or  so  the  Gen- 
eral thought)  when  you  are  caught  in  the  act  of  adoring 
the  mother  of  cabbages.  And  though  he  himself  loved  the 
cabbage  equally  with  the  rose,  in  his  heart  respected  the 
vegetable  yet  more  than  he  esteemed  the  flower,  for  he 
gloried  in  his  kitchen-garden,  this  was  not  a  secret  for  the 
world  to  know,  and  he  almost  heeled  over  on  his  beam  ends 
when  word  was  brought  of  the  extreme  honour  Lady 
Camper  had  done  him.  He  worked  his  arms  hurriedly  into 
his  fatigue  jacket,  trusting  to  get  away  to  the  house  and 
spend  a  couple  of  minutes  on  his  adornment;  and  with  any 
other  visitor  it  might  have  been  accomplished,  but  Lady 
Camper  disliked  sitting  alone  in  a  room.  She  was  on  the 
square  of  lawn  as  the  General  stole  along  the  walk.  Had 
she  kept  her  back  to  him,  he  might  have  rounded  her  like 
the  shadow  of  a  dial,  undetected.  She  was  frightfully 
acute  of  hearing.  She  turned  while  he  was  in  the  agony 
of  hesitation,  in  a  queer  attitude,  one  leg  on  the  march, 
projected  by  a  frenzied  tiptoe  of  the  hinder  leg,  the  very 
fatallest  moment  she  could  possibly  have  selected  for 
unveiling  him. 

Of  course  there  was  no  choice  but  to  surrender  on  the 
spot. 

He  began  to  squander  his  dizzy  wits  in  profuse  apologies. 
Lady  Camper  simply  spoke  of  the  nice  little  nest  of  a 
garden,  smelt  the  flowers,  accepted  a  Niel  rose  and  a 
Rohan,  a  Celine,  a  Falcot,  and  La  France. 

"A  beautiful  rose  indeed,"  she  said  of  the  latter,  "only 
it  smells  of  macassar  oil." 

"  Really,  it  never  struck  me,  I  say  it  never  struck  me 
before,"  rejoined  the  General,  smelling  it  as  at  a  pinch  of 
/»nuff.     "I  was  saying,  I  always  ..."     And  he  tacitly, 


272  THE  CASE  OF   GENERAL  OPLE 

with,  the  absurdest  of  smiles,  begged  permission  to  leave 
unterminated  a  sentence  not  in  itself  particularly  difficult. 

"I  have  a  nose,"  observed  Lady  Camper. 

Like  the  nobly-bred  person  she  was,  according  to  General 
Ople's  version  of  the  interview  on  his  estate,  when  he 
stood  before  her  in  his  gardening  costume,  she  put  him  at 
his  ease,  or  she  exerted  herself  to  do  so;  and  if  he  under- 
went considerable  anguish,  it  was  the  fault  of  his  excessive 
scrupulousness  regarding  dress,  propriety,  appearance. 

He  conducted  her  at  her  request  to  the  kitchen-garden 
and  the  handful  of  paddock,  the  stables  and  coach-house, 
then  back  to  the  lawn. 

"It  is  the  home  for  a  young  couple,"  she  said. 

"I  am  no  longer  young,"  the  General  bowed,  with  the 
sigh  peculiar  to  this  confession.  "  I  say,  I  am  no  longer 
young,  but  I  call  the  place  a  gentlemanly  residence.  I 
was  saying,  I  .   .  ." 

"  Yes,  yes !  "  Lady  Camper  tossed  her  head,  half  closing 
her  eyes,  with  a  contraction  of  the  brows,  as  if  in  pain. 

He  perceived  a  similar  expression  whenever  he  spoke  of 
his  residence. 

Perhaps  it  recalled  happier  days  to  enter  such  a  nest. 
Perhaps  it  had  been  such  a  home  for  a  young  couple  that 
she  had  entered  on  her  marriage  with  Sir  Scrope  Camper, 
before  he  inherited  his  title  and  estates. 

The  General  was  at  a  loss  to  conceive  what  it  was. 

It  recurred  at  another  mention  of  his  idea  of  the  nature 
of  the  residence.  It  was  almost  a  paroxysm.  He  deter- 
mined not  to  vex  her  reminiscences  again ;  and  as  this  reso- 
lution directed  his  mind  to  his  residence,  thinking  it 
pre-eminently  gentlemanly,  his  tongue  committed  the  error 
of  repeating  it,  with  "gentlemanlike"  for  a  variation. 

Elizabeth  was  out  —  he  knew  not  where.  The  house- 
maid informed  him,  that  Miss  Elizabeth  was  out  rowing  on 
the  water. 

"  Is  she  alone  ?  "  Lady  Camper  inquired  of  him. 

"I  fancy  so,"  the  General  replied. 

"The  poor  child  has  no  mother." 

"It  has  been  a  sad  loss  to  us  both,  Lady  Camper." 

"  No  doubt.     She  is  too  pretty  to  go  out  alone." 

"I  can  trust  her." 


AND   LADY   CAMPER  273 

"Girls!" 

"She  has  the  spirit  of  a  man." 

"That  is  well.     She  has  a  spirit;  it  will  be  tried." 

The  General  modestly  furnished  an  instance  or  two  of 
her  spiritedness. 

Lady  Camper  seemed  to  like  this  theme;  she  looked 
graciously  interested. 

"Still,  you  should  not  suffer  her  to  go  out  alone,"  she 
said. 

"I  place  implicit  confidence  in  her,"  said  the  General; 
and  Lady  Camper  gave  it  up. 

She  proposed  to  walk  down  the  lanes  to  the  river-side, 
to  meet  Elizabeth  returning. 

The  General  manifested  alacrity  checked  by  reluctance. 
Lady  Camper  had  told  him  she  objected  to  sit  in  a  strange 
room  by  herself;  after  that,  he  could  hardly  leave  her  to 
dash  upstairs  to  change  his  clothes;  yet  how,  attired  as  he 
was,  in  a  fatigue  jacket,  that  warned  him  not  to  imagine 
his  back  view,  and  held  him  constantly  a  little  to  the  rear 
of  Lady  Camper,  lest  she  should  be  troubled  by  it;  —  and 
he  knew  the  habit  of  the  second  rank  to  criticise  the  front 
—  how  consent  to  face  the  outer  world  in  such  style  side 
by  side  with  the  lady  he  admired  ? 

"Come,"  said  she;  and  he  shot  forward  a  step,  looking 
as  if  he  had  missed  fire. 

"Are  you  not  coming,  General  ?  " 

He  advanced  mechanically. 

Not  a  soul  met  them  down  the  lanes,  except  a  little,  one, 
to  whom  Lady  Camper  gave  a  small  silver-piece,  because 
she  was  a  picture. 

The  act  of  charity  sank  into  the  General's  heart,  as  any 
pretty  performance  will  do  upon  a  warm  waxen  bed. 

Lady  Camper  surprised  him  by  answering  his  thoughts. 

"No;  it 's  for  my  own  pleasure." 

Presently  she  said,  "Here  they  are." 

General  Ople  beheld  his  daughter  by  the  river-side  at 
the  end  of  the  lane,  under  escort  of  Mr.  Keginald  Rolles. 

It  was  another  picture,  and  a  pleasing  one.  The  young 
lady  and  the  young  gentleman  wore  boating  hats,  and  were 
both  dressed  in  white,  and  standing  by  or  just  turning  from 
the  outrigger  and  light  skiff  they  were  about  to  leave  in 


274  THE  CASE   OF   GENERAL  OPLE 

charge  of  a  waterman.  Elizabeth  stretched  a  ringer  at 
arm's-length,  issuing  directions,  which  Mr.  Rolles  took  up 
and  worded  further  to  the  man,  for  the  sake  of  emphasis ; 
and  he,  rather  than  Elizabeth,  was  guilty  of  the  half-start 
at  sight  of  the  persons  who  were  approaching. 

"  My  nephew,  you  should  know,  is  intended  for  a  work- 
ing soldier,"  said  Lady  Camper;  "I  like  that  sort  of 
soldier  best." 

General  Ople  drooped  his  shoulders  at  the  personal 
compliment. 

She  resumed.  "His  pay  is  a  matter  of  importance  to 
him.  You  are  aware  of  the  smallness  of  a  subaltern's 
pay." 

"I,"  said  the  General,  "I  say  I  feel  my  poor  half -pay, 
having  always  been  a  working  soldier  myself,  very  impor- 
tant, I  was  saying,  very  important  to  me." 

"  Why  did  you  retire  ?  " 

Her  interest  in  him  seemed  promising.  He  replied  con- 
scientiously, "  Beyond  the  duties  of  General  of  Brigade,  I 
could  not,  I  say  I  could  not,  dare  to  aspire;  I  can  accept 
and  execute  orders;  I  shrink  from  responsibility." 

"It  is  a  pity,"  said  she,  "that  you  were  not,  like  my 
nephew  Reginald,  entirely  dependent  on  your  profession." 

She  laid  such  stress  on  her  remark,  that  the  General, 
who  had  just  expressed  a  very  modest  estimate  of  his 
abilities,  was  unable  to  reject  the  flattery  of  her  assuming 
him  to  be  a  man  of  some  fortune.  He  coughed,  and  said, 
"Very  little."  The  thought  came  to  him  that  he  might 
have  to  make  a  statement  to  her  in  time,  and  he  empha- 
sized, "Very  little  indeed.  Sufficient,"  he  assured  her, 
"for  a  gentlemanly  appearance." 

"I  have  given  you  your  warning,"  was  her  inscrutable 
rejoinder,  uttered  within  earshot  of  the  young  people,  to 
whom,  especially  to  Elizabeth,  she  was  gracious.  The 
damsel's  boating  uniform  was  praised,  and  her  sunny  flush 
of  exercise  and  exposure. 

Lady  Camper  regretted  that  she  could  not  abandon  her 
parasol:  "I  freckle  so  easily." 

The  General,  puzzling  over  her  strange  words  about  a 
warning,  gazed  at  the  red  rose  of  art  on  her  cheek  with 
an  air  of  profound  abstraction. 


AND  LADY   CAMPER  275 

"I  freckle  so  easily,"  she  repeated,  dropping  her  parasol 
to  defend  her  face  from  the  calculating  scrutiny. 

"I  burn  brown,"  said  Elizabeth. 

Lady  Camper  laid  the  bud  of  a  Falcot  rose  against  the 
young  girl's  cheek,  but  fetched  streams  of  colour,  that  over- 
whelmed the  momentary  comparison  of  the  sun-swarthed 
skin  with  the  rich  dusky  yellow  of  the  rose  in  its  deepen- 
ing inward  to  soft  brown. 

Reginald  stretched  his  hand  for  the  privileged  flower, 
and  she  let  him  take  it;  then  she  looked  at  the  General; 
but  the  General  was  looking,  with  his  usual  air  of  satis- 
faction, nowhere. 


CHAPTER  III 


"Lady  Camper  is   no  common   enigma,"   General  Ople 
observed  to  his  daughter. 

Elizabeth  inclined  to  be  pleased  with  her,  for  at  her  sug- 
gestion the  General  had  bought  a  couple  of  horses,  that  she 
might  ride  in  the  park,  accompanied  by  her  father  or  the 
little  groom.  Still,  the  great  lady  was  hard  to  read.  She 
tested  the  resources  of  his  income  by  all  sorts  of  instigation 
to  expenditure,  which  his  gallantry  could  not  withstand;  she 
encouraged  him  to  talk  of  his  deeds  in  arms ;  she  was  friendly, 
almost  affectionate,  and  most  bountiful  in  the  presents  of 
fruit,  peaches,  nectarines,  grapes,  and  hot-house  wonders 
that  she  showered  on  his  table;  but  she  was  an  enigma  in 
her  evident  dissatisfaction  with  him  for  something  he 
seemed  to  have  left  unsaid.     And  what  could  that  be  ? 

At  their  last  interview  she  had  asked  him,  "  Are  you  sure, 
General,  you  have  nothing  more  to  tell  me  ?  " 

And  as  he  remarked,  when  relating  it  to  Elizabeth,  "  One 
might  really  be  tempted  to  misapprehend  her  ladyship's 
...  I  say  one  might  commit  oneself  beyond  recovery. 
Now,   my  dear,  what  do  you  think  she  intended  ? " 

Elizabeth  was  '  burning  brown, '  or  darkly  blushing,  as 
her  manner  was. 

She  answered,  "  I  am  certain  you  know  of  nothing  that 
would  interest  her;  nothing,  unless  ..." 


276  THE  CASE  OF   GENEKAL  OPLE 

"  Well  ?  "  the  General  urged  her. 

"  How  can  I  speak  it,  papa  ?  " 

"You  really  can't  mean  ..." 

"  Papa,  what  could  I  mean  ?  " 

"If  I  were  fool  enough!"  he  murmured.  "No,  no,  I 
am  an  old  man.  I  was  saying,  I  am  past  the  age  of 
folly." 

One  day  Elizabeth  came  home  from  her  ride  in  a 
thoughtful  mood.  She  had  not,  further  than  has  been 
mentioned,  incited  her  father  to  think  of  the  age  of  folly; 
but  voluntarily  or  not,  Lady  Camper  had,  by  an  excess  of 
graciousness  amounting  to  downright  invitation ;  as  thus, 
"  Will  you  persist  in  withholding  your  confidence  from  me, 
General?"  She  added,  "I  am  not  so  difficult  a  person." 
These  prompting  speeches  occurred  on  the  morning  of  the 
day  when  Elizabeth  sat  at  his  table,  after  a  long  ride  into 
the  country,  profoundly  meditative. 

A  note  was  handed  to  General  Ople,  with  the  request 
that  he  would  step  in  to  speak  with  Lady  Camper  in  the 
course  of  the  evening,  or  next  morning.  Elizabeth  waited 
till  his  hat  was  on,  then  said,  "  Papa,  on  my  ride  to-day, 
I  met  Mr.  Rolles." 

"I  am  glad  you  had  an  agreeable  escort,  my  dear." 

"I  could  not  refuse  his  company." 

"  Certainly  not.     And  where  did  you  ride  ?  " 

"  To  a  beautiful  valley ;  and  there  we  met  ..." 

"Her  ladyship?" 

"Yes." 

"  She  always  admires  you  on  horseback." 

"  So  you  know  it,  papa,  if  she  should  speak  of  it." 

"And  I  am  bound  to  tell  you,  my  child,"  said  the 
General,  "that  this  morning  Lady  Camper's  manner  to 
me  was  ...  if  I  were  a  fool  ...  I  say,  this  morning  I 
beat  a  retreat,  but  apparently  she  ...  I  see  no  way  out 
of  it,  supposing  she  ..." 

"I  am  sure  she  esteems  you,  dear  papa,"  said  Elizabeth. 

"  You  take  to  her,  my  dear  ?  "  the  General  inquired  anx- 
iously; "a  little  ?  — a  little  afraid  of  her  ?" 

"A  little,"  Elizabeth  replied,  "only  a  little." 

"Don't  be  agitated  about  me." 

"No,  papa j  you  are  sure  to  do  right." 


AND   LADY  CAMPER  277 

*But  you  are  trembling." 

"Oh!  no.     I  wish  you  success." 

General  Ople  was  overjoyed  to  be  reinforced  by  his 
daughter's  good  wishes.  He  kissed  her  to  thank  her.  He 
turned  back  to  her  to  kiss  her  again.  She  had  greatly 
lightened  the  difficulty  at  least  of  a  delicate  position. 

It  was  just  like  the  imperious  nature  of  Lady  Camper  to 
summon  him  in  the  evening  to  terminate  the  conversation 
of  the  morning,  from  the  visible  pitfall  of  which  he  had 
beaten  a  rather  precipitate  retreat.  But  if  his  daughter 
cordially  wished  him  success,  and  Lady  Camper  offered 
him  the  crown  of  it,  why  then  he  had  only  to  pluck  up 
spirit,  like  a  good  commander  who  has  to  pass  a  fordable 
river  in  the  enemy's  presence;  a  dash,  a  splash,  a  rattling 
volley  or  two,  and  you  are  over,  established  on  the  opposite 
bank.  But  you  must  be  positive  of  victory,  otherwise, 
with  the  river  behind  you,  your  new  position  is  likely  to 
be  ticklish.  So  the  General  entered  Lady  Camper's 
drawing-room  warily,  watching  the  fair  enemy.  He  knew 
he  was  captivating,  his  old  conquests  whispered  in  his  ears, 
and  her  reception  of  him  all  but  pointed  to  a  footstool  at 
her  feet.  He  might  have  fallen  there  at  once,  had  he  not 
remembered  a  hint  that  Mr.  Reginald  Rolles  had  dropped 
concerning  Lady  Camper's  amazing  variability. 

Lady  Camper  began. 

"  General,  you  ran  away  from  me  this  morning.  Let  me 
speak.  And,  by  the  way,  I  must  reproach  you ;  you  should 
not  have  left  it  to  me.  Things  have  now  gone  so  far  that  I 
cannot  pretend  to  be  blind.  I  know  your  feelings  as  a 
father.     Your  daughter's  happiness  ..." 

"  My  lady, "  the  General  interposed,  "  I  have  her  distinct 
assurance  that  it  is,  I  say  it  is  wrapt  up  in  mine." 

"  Let  me  speak.  Young  people  will  say  anything.  Well, 
they  have  a  certain  excuse  for  selfishness ;  we  have  not.  I 
am  in  some  degree  bound  to  my  nephew;  he  is  my  sister's 
son. " 

"  Assuredly,  my  lady.  I  would  not  stand  in  his  light, 
be  quite  assured.  If  I  am,  I  was  saying  if  I  am  not  mis- 
taken, I  .  .  .  and  he  is,  or  has  the  making  of  an  excellent 
soldier  in  him,  and  is  likely  to  be  a  distinguished  cavalry 
officer." 


278  THE  CASE   OF   GENEKAL  OPLE 

"He  has  to  carve  his  own  way  in  the  world,  General." 

"  All  good  soldiers  have,  my  lady.  And  if  my  position 
is  not,  after  a  considerable  term  of  service,  I  say  if  .  .  ." 

"To  continue,"  said  Lady  Camper:  "I  never  have  liked 
early  marriages.  I  was  married  in  my  teens  before  I  knew 
men.     Now  I  do  know  them,  and  now  ..." 

The  General  plunged  forward:  "The  honour  you  do  us 
now: — a  mature  experience  is  worth:  —  my  dear  Lady 
Camper,  I  have  admired  you :  —  and  your  objection  to  early 
marriages  cannot  apply  to  .  .  .  indeed,  madam,  vigour, 
they  say  .  .  .  though  youth,  of  course  .  .  .  yet  young 
people,  as  you  observe  .  .  .  and  I  have,  though  perhaps 
my  reputation  is  against  it,  I  was  saying  I  have  a  natural 
timidity  with  your  sex,  and  I  am  grey-headed,  white- 
headed,  but  happily  without  a  single  malady." 

Lady  Camper's  brows  showed  a  trifling  bewilderment. 
"I  am  speaking  of  these  young  people,  General  Ople." 

"I  consent  to  everything  beforehand,  my  dear  lady. 
He  should  be,  I  say  Mr.  Rolles  should  be  provided  for." 

"So  should  she,  General,  so  should  Elizabeth." 

"She  shall  be,  she  will,  dear  madam.  What  I  have, 
with  your  permission,  if  —  good  heaven!  Lady  Camper,  I 
scarcely  know  where  I  am.  She  would  ...  I  shall  not 
like  to  lose  her :  you  would  not  wish  it.  In  time  she  will 
.   .  .  she  has  every  quality  of  a  good  wife." 

"There,  stay  there,  and  be  intelligible,"  said  Lady 
Camper.  "  She  has  every  quality.  Money  should  be  one 
of  them.     Has  she  money  ?  " 

"Oh!  my  lady,"  the  General  exclaimed,  "we  shall  not 
come  upon  your  purse  when  her  time  comes." 

"  Has  she  ten  thousand  pounds  ?  " 

"  Elizabeth  ?  She  will  have,  at  her  father's  death  .  .  . 
but  as  for  my  income,  it  is  moderate,  and  only  sufficient  to 
maintain  a  gentlemanly  appearance  in  proper  self-respect. 
I  make  no  show.  I  say  I  make  no  show.  A  wealthy  mar- 
riage is  the  last  thing  on  earth  I  should  have  aimed  at.  i 
prefer  quiet  and  retirement.  Personally,  I  mean.  Thai 
is  my  personal  taste.  But  if  the  lady :  I  say  if  it  should 
happen  that  the  lady  .  .  .  and  indeed  I  am  not  one  to 
press  a  suit:  but  if  she  who  distinguishes  and  honours  me 
should  chance  to  be  wealth/,  all  I  can  do  is  to  leave  her 


AND  LADY  CAMPER  279 

wealth  at  her  disposal,  and  that  I  do:  I  do  that  unre- 
servedly. I  feel  I  am  very  confused,  alarmingly  confused. 
Your  ladyship  merits  a  superior  ...  I  trust  I  have  not 
...  I  am  entirely  at  your  ladyship's  mercy." 

"Are  you  prepared,  if  your  daughter  is  asked  in  mar- 
riage, to  settle  ten  thousand  pounds  on  her,  General 
Ople  ?  " 

The  General  collected  himself.  In  his  heart  he  thor- 
oughly appreciated  the  moral  beauty  of  Lady  Camper's 
extreme  solicitude  on  behalf  of  his  daughter's  provision; 
but  he  would  have  desired  a  postponement  of  that  and  other 
material  questions  belonging  to  a  distant  future  until  his 
own  fate  was  decided. 

So  he  said :  "  Your  ladyship's  generosity  is  very  marked. 
I  say  it  is  very  marked." 

"How,  my  good  General  Ople!  how  is  it  marked  in  any 
degree  ? "  cried  Lady  Camper.  "  I  am  not  generous.  I 
don't  pretend  to  be ;  and  certainly  I  don't  want  the  young 
people  to  think  me  so.  I  want  to  be  just.  I  have  assumed 
that  you  intend  to  be  the  same.  Then  will  you  do  me  the 
favour  to  reply  to  me  ?  " 

The  General  smiled  winningly  and  intently,  to  show  her 
that  he  prized  her,  and  would  not  let  her  escape  his 
eulogies. 

"Marked,  in  this  way,  dear  madam,  that  you  think  of 
my  daughter's  future  more  than  I.  I  say,  more  than  her 
father  himself  does.  I  know  I  ought  to  speak  more 
warmly,  I  feel  warmly.  I  was  never  an  eloquent  man, 
and  if  you  take  me  as  a  soldier,  I  am,  as  I  have  ever  been 
in  the  service,  I  was  saying  I  am  Wilson  Ople,  of  the  grade 
of  General,  to  be  relied  on  for  executing  orders;  and, 
madam,  you  are  Lady  Camper,  and  you  command  me.  I 
cannot  be  more  precise.  In  fact,  it  is  the  feeling  of  the 
necessity  for  keeping  close  to  the  business  that  destroys 
what  I  would  say.  I  am  in  fact  lamentably  incompetent 
to  conduct  my  own  case." 

Lady  Camper  left  her  chair. 

"Dear  me,  this  is  very  strange,  unless  I  am  singularly 
in  error,"  she  said. 

The  General  now  faintly  guessed  that  he  might  be  in 
error,  for  his  part. 


280  THE   CASE   OF  GENERAL  OPLE 

But  he  had  burned  his  ships,  blown  up  his  bridges; 
retreat  could  not  be  thought  of. 

He  stood,  his  head  bent  and  appealing  to  her  side-face, 
like  one  pleadingly  in  pursuit,  and  very  deferentially,  with 
a  courteous  vehemence,  he  entreated  first  her  ladyship's 
pardon  for  his  presumption,  and  then  the  gift  of  her  lady- 
ship's hand. 

As  for  his  language,  it  was  the  tongue  of  General  Ople. 
But  his  bearing  was  fine.  If  his  clipped  white  silken  hair 
spoke  of  age,  his  figure  breathed  manliness.  He  was  a 
picture,  and  she  loved  pictures. 

For  his  own  sake,  she  begged  him  to  cease.  She  dreaded 
to  hear  of  something  "  gentlemanly." 

"  This  is  a  new  idea  to  me,  my  dear  General,"  she  said. 
"  You  must  give  me  time.  People  at  our  age  have  to  think 
of  fitness.  Of  course,  in  a  sense,  we  are  both  free  to  do  as 
we  like.  Perhaps  I  may  be  of  some  aid  to  you.  My  pref- 
erence is  for  absolute  independence.  And  I  wished  to  talk 
of  a  different  affair.  Come  to  me  to-morrow.  Do  not  be 
hurt  if  I  decide  that  we  had  better  remain  as  we  are." 

The  General  bowed.  His  efforts,  and  the  wavering  of 
the  fair  enemy's  flag,  had  inspired  him  with  a  positive  re- 
awakening of  masculine  passion  to  gain  this  fortress.  He 
said  well :  "  I  have,  then,  the  happiness,  madam,  of  being 
allowed  to  hope  until  to-morrow?"  * 

She  replied,  "  I  would  not  deprive  you  of  a  moment  of 
happiness.  Bring  good  sense  with  you  when  you  do 
come." 

The  General  asked  eagerly,  "  I  have  your  ladyship's  per- 
mission to  come  early  ?  " 

"  Consult  your  happiness,"  she  answered ;  and  if  to  his 
mind  she  seemed  returning  to  the  state  of  enigma,  it  was 
on  the  whole  deliciously.  She  restored  him  his  youth. 
He  told  Elizabeth  that  night,  he  really  must  begin  to  think 
of  marrying  her  to  some  worthy  young  fellow.  "  Though," 
said  he,  with  an  air  of  frank  intoxication,  "  my  opinion  is, 
the  young  ones  are  not  so  lively  as  the  old  in  these  days,  or 
I  should  have  been  besieged  before  now." 

The  exact  substance  of  the  interview  he  forbore  to  re- 
late to  his  inquisitive  daughter,  with  a  very  honourable 
discretion. 


AND   LADY   CAMPER  281 


CHAPTER  IV 

Elizabeth  came  riding  home  to  breakfast  from  a  gallop 
round  the  park,  and  passing  Lady  Camper's  gates,  received 
the  salutation  of  her  parasol.  Lady  Camper  talked  with  her 
through  the  bars.  There  was  not  a  sign  to  tell  of  a  change 
or  twist  in  her  neighbourly  affability.  She  remarked  sim- 
ply enough,  that  it  was  her  nephew's  habit  to  take  early 
gallops,  and  possibly  Elizabeth  might  have  seen  him,  for 
his  quarters  were  proximate;  but  she  did  not  demand  an 
answer.  She  had  passed  a  rather  restless  night,  she  said. 
"  How  is  the  General  ?  " 

"Papa  must  have  slept  soundly,  for  he  usually  calls  to  me 
through  his  door  when  he  hears  I  am  up,"  said  Elizabeth. 

Lady  Camper  nodded  kindly  and  walked  on. 

Early  in  the  morning  General  Ople  was  ready  for  battle. 
His  forces  were,  the  anticipation  of  victory,  a  carefully 
arranged  toilette,  and  an  unaccustomed  spirit  of  enterprise 
in  the  realms  of  speech ;  for  he  was  no  longer  in  such  awe 
of  Lady  Camper. 

"  You  have  slept  well  ?  "  she  inquired. 

"Excellently,  my  lady." 

"Yes,  your  daughter  tells  me  she  heard  you,  as  she  went 
by  your  door  in  the  morning  for  a  ride  to  meet  my  nephew. 
You  are,  I  shall  assume,  prepared  for  business." 

"Elizabeth?  ...  to  meet?  .  .  ."  General  Ople's  im- 
pression of  anything  extraneous  to  his  emotion  was  feeble 
and  passed  instantly.  "  Prepared  !  Oh,  certainly ; "  and 
he  struck  in  a  compliment  on  her  ladyship's  fresh  morning 
bloom. 

" It  can  hardly  be  visible,"  she  responded;  "I  have  not 
painted  yet." 

"Does  your  ladyship  proceed  to  your  painting  in  the 
very  early  morning?" 

"  Rouge.     I  rouge." 

"  Dear  me !     I  should  not  have  supposed  it." 

"You  have  speculated  on  it  very  openly,  General.  I 
remember  your  trying  to  see  a  freckle  through  the  rouge ; 
but  the  truth  is,  I  am  of  a  supernatural  paleness  if  I  do  not 


282  THE  CASE   OF   GENERAL  OPLE 

rouge,  so  I  do.  You  understand,  therefore,  I  have  a  false 
complexion.     Now  to  business." 

"  If  your  ladyship  insists  on  calling  it  business.  I  have 
little  to  offer  —  myself!" 

"You  have  a  gentlemanly  residence." 

"It  is,  my  lady,  it  is.     It  is  a  bijou." 

"Ah!  "  Lady  Camper  sighed  dejectedly. 

"  It  is  a  perfect  bijou ! " 

"Oblige  me,  General,  by  not  pronouncing  the  French 
word  as  if  you  were  swearing  by  something  in  English, 
like  a  trooper." 

General  Ople  started,  admitted  that  the  word  was  French, 
and  apologized  for  his  pronunciation.  Her  variability  was 
now  visible  over  a  corner  of  the  battlefield  like  a  thunder- 
cloud. 

"The  business  we  have  to  discuss  concerns  the  young 
people,  General." 

"Yes,"  brightened  by  this,  he  assented:  "Yes,  dear 
Lady  Camper ;  it  is  a  part  of  the  business ;  it  is  a  secon- 
dary part ;  it  has  to  be  discussed ;  I  say  I  subscribe  before- 
hand. I  may  say,  that  honouring,  esteeming  you  as  I  do, 
and  hoping  ardently  for  your  consent  .  .  ." 

"They  must  have  a  home  and  an  income,  General." 

"  I  presume,  dearest  lady,  that  Elizabeth  will  be  welcome 
in  your  home.  I  certainly  shall  never  chase  Reginald  out 
of  mine." 

Lady  Camper  threw  back  her  head.  "  Then  you  are  not 
yet  awake,  or  you  practice  the  art  of  sleeping  with  open 
eyes !  Now  listen  to  me.  I  rouge,  I  have  told  you.  I 
like  colour,  and  I  do  not  like  to  see  wrinkles  or  have  them 
seen.  Therefore  I  rouge.  I  do  not  expect  to  deceive  the 
world  so  flagrantly  as  to  my  age,  and  you  I  would  not 
deceive  for  a  moment.     I  am  seventy." 

The  effect  of  this  noble  frankness  on  the  General  was  to 
raise  him  from  his  chair  in  a  sitting  posture  as  if  he  had 
been  blown  up. 

Her  countenance  was  inexorably  imperturbable  under  his 
alternate  blinking  and  gazing  that  drew  her  close  and  shot 
her  distant,  like  a  mysterious  toy. 

"But,"  said  she,  "I  am  an  artist;  I  dislike  the  look  of 
extreme  age,  so  I  conceal  it  as  well  as  I  can.     You  are  very 


AND  LADY   CAMPER  283 

kind  to  fall  in  with  the  deception:  an  innocent  and,  I 
think,  a  proper  one,  before  the  world,  though  not  to  the 
gentleman  who  does  me  the  honour  to  propose  to  me  for 
my  hand.  You  desire  to  settle  our  business  first.  You 
esteem  me ;  I  suppose  you  mean  as  much  as  young  people 
mean  when  they  say  they  love.  Do  you  ?  Let  us  come  to 
an  understanding." 

"  I  can,"  the  melancholy  General  gasped,  "  I  say  I  can  — 
I  cannot  —  I  cannot  credit  your  ladyship's  .  .  ." 

"  You  are  at  liberty  to  call  me  Angela." 

"Ange  .  .  ."  he  tried  it,  and  in  shame  relapsed. 
"Madam,  yes.     Thanks." 

"  Ah,"  cried  Lady  Camper,  "  do  not  use  these  vulgar  con- 
tractions of  decent  speech  in  my  presence.  I  abhor  the 
word  'thanks.'     It  is  fit  for  fribbles." 

"Dear  me,  I  have  used  it  all  my  life,"  groaned  the 
General. 

"Then,  for  the  remainder,  be  it  understood  that  you 
renounce  it.     To  continue,  my  age  is  .  .  ." 

"  Oh,  impossible,  impossible,"  the  General  almost  wailed ; 
there  was  really  a  crack  in  his  voice. 

"Advancing  to  seventy.  But,  like  you,  I  am  happy  to 
say  I  have  not  a  malady.  I  bring  no  invalid  frame  to  an 
union  that  necessitates  the  leaving  of  the  front  door  open 
day  and  night  to  the  doctor.  My  belief  is,  I  could  follow 
my  husband  still  on  a  campaign,  if  he  were  a  warrior  in- 
stead of  a  pensioner." 

General  Ople  winced. 

He  was  about  to  say  humbly,  "As  General  of  Bri- 
gade ..." 

"Yes,  yes,  you  want  a  commanding  officer,  and  that  I 
have  seen,  and  that  has  caused  me  to  meditate  on  your 
proposal,"  she  interrupted  him ;  while  he,  studying  her 
countenance  hard,  with  the  painful  aspect  of  a  youth  who 
lashes  a  donkey  memory  in  an  examination  by  word  of 
mouth,  attempted  to  marshal  her  signs  of  younger  years 
against  her  awful  confession  of  the  extremely  ancient,  the 
witheringly  ancient.  But  for  the  manifest  rouge,  manifest 
in  spite  of  her  declaration  that  she  had  not  yet  that  morning 
proceeded  to  her  paint-brush,  he  would  have  thrown  down 
his  glove  to  challenge  her  on  the  subject  of  her  age.    She  had 


284  THE  CASE   OF   GENERAL  OPLB 

actually  charms.  Her  mouth  had  a  charm ;  her  eyes  were 
lively  ;  her  figure,  mature  if  you  like,  was  at  least  full  and 
good  ;  she  stood  upright,  she  had  a  queenly  seat.  His  men- 
tal ejaculation  was,  "  What  a  wonderful  constitution  ! " 

By  a  lapse  of  politeness,  he  repeated  it  to  himself  half 
aloud ;  he  was  shockingly  nervous. 

"  Yes,  I  have  finer  health  than  many  a  younger  woman," 
she  said.  "An  ordinary  calculation  would  give  me  twenty 
good  years  to  come.  I  am  a  widow,  as  you  know.  And, 
by  the  way,  you  have  a  leaning  for  widows.  Have  you 
not  ?  I  thought  I  had  heard  of  a  widow  Barcop  in  this 
parish.  Do  not  protest.  I  assure  you  I  am  a  stranger  to 
jealousy.     My  income  .  .  ." 

The  General  raised  his  hands. 

"Well,  then,"  said  the  cool  and  self-contained  lady, 
"before  I  go  farther,  I  may  ask  you,  knowing  what  you 
have  forced  me  to  confess,  are  you  still  of  the  same  mind 
as  to  marriage  ?  And  one  moment,  General.  I  promise 
you  most  sincerely  that  your  withdrawing  a  step  shall  not, 
as  far  as  it  touches  me,  affect  my  neighbourly  and  friendly 
sentiments  ;  not  in  any  degree.     Shall  we  be  as  we  were  ?  " 

Lady  Camper  extended  her  delicate  hand  to  him. 

He  took  it  respectfully,  inspected  the  aristocratic  and 
unshrunken  fingers,  and  kissing  them,  said,  "I  never  with- 
draw from  a  position,  unless  I  am  beaten  back.  Lady 
Camper,  I  .  .  ." 

"  My  name  is  Angela." 

The  General  tried  again :  he  could  not  utter  the  name. 

To  call  a  lady  of  seventy  Angela  is  difficult  in  itself.  It 
is,  it  seems,  thrice  difficult  in  the  way  of  courtship. 

"  Angela !  "  said  she. 

"  Yes.  I  say,  there  is  not  a  more  beautiful  female  name, 
dear  Lady  Camper." 

"Spare  me  that  word  'female'  as  long  as  you  live. 
Address  me  by  that  name,  if  you  please." 

The  General  smiled.  The  smile  was  meant  for  propitia* 
tion  and  sweetness.     It  became  a  brazen  smile. 

"Unless  you  wish  to  step  back,"  said  she. 

"Indeed,  no.  I  am  happy,  Lady  Camper.  My  life  is 
yours.     I  say,  my  life  is  devoted  to  you,  dear  madam." 

"  Angela ! " 


AND   LADY   CAMTER  285 

General  Ople  was  blushingly  delivered  of  the  name. 

"That  will  do,"  said  she.  "And  as  I  think  it  possible 
one  may  be  admired  too  much  as  an  artist,  I  must  request 
you  to  keep  my  number  of  years  a  secret." 

"  To  the  death,  madam,"  said  the  General. 

"And  now  we  will  take  a  turn  in  the  garden,  Wilson 
Ople.  And  beware  of  one  thing,  for  a  commencement,  for 
you  are  full  of  weeds,  and  I  mean  to  pluck  out  a  few: 
never  call  any  place  a  gentlemanly  residence  in  my  hearing, 
nor  let  it  come  to  my  ears  that  you  have  been  using  the 
phrase  elsewhere.  Don't  express  astonishment.  At  pres- 
ent it  is  enough  that  I  dislike  it.  But  this  only,"  Lady 
Camper  added,  "this  only  if  it  is  not  your  intention  to 
withdraw  from  your  position." 

"Madam,  my  lady,  I  was  saying  —  hem!  —  Angela,  I 
could  not  wish  to  withdraw." 

Lady  Camper  leaned  with  some  pressure  on  his  arm, 
observing,  "  You  have  a  curious  attachment  to  antiquities." 

"  My  dear  lady,  it  is  your  mind ;  I  say,  it  is  your  mind : 
I  was  saying,  I  am  in  love  with  your  mind,"  the  General 
endeavoured  to  assure  her,  and  himself  too. 

"  Or  is  it  my  powers  as  an  artist  ?  " 

"  Your  mind,  your  extraordinary  powers  of  mind." 

"Well,"  said  Lady  Camper,  "a  veteran  General  of 
Brigade  is  as  good  a  crutch  as  a  childless  old  grannam  can 
have." 

And,  as  a  crutch,  General  Ople,  parading  her  grounds 
with  the  aged  woman,  found  himself  used  and  treated. 

The  accuracy  of  his  perceptions  might  be  questioned. 
He  was  like  a  man  stunned  by  some  great  tropical  fruit, 
which  responds  to  the  longing  of  his  eyes  by  falling  on  his 
head ;  but  it  appeared  to  him,  that  she  increased  in  bitter- 
ness at  every  step  they  took,  as  if  determined  to  make  him 
realize  her  wrinkles. 

He  was  even  so  inconsequent,  or  so  little  recognized  his 
position,  as  to  object  in  his  heart  to  hear  himself  called 
Wilson. 

It  is  true  that  she  uttered  Wilsonople  as  if  the  names 
formed  one  word.  And  on  a  second  occasion  (when  he 
inclined  to  feel  hurt)  she  remarked,  "I  fear  me,  Wilsonople, 
if  we  are  to  speak  plainly,  thou  art  but  a  fool."     He,  per- 


286         THE  CASE  OF  GENERAL  OPLE 

haps,  naturally  objected  to  that.     He  was,  however,  giddy, 
and  barely  knew. 

Yet  once  more  the  magical  woman  changed.  All  sem- 
blance of  harshness,  and  harridan-like  spike-tonguedness, 
vanished  when  she  said  adieu. 

The  astronomer,  looking  at  the  crusty  jag  and  scoria  of 
the  magnified  moon  through  his  telescope,  and  again  with 
naked  eyes  at  the  soft-beaming  moou,  when  the  crater- 
ridges  are  faint  as  eyebrow-pencillings,  has  a  similar  sharp 
alternation  of  prospect  to  that  which  mystified  General 
Ople. 

But  between  watching  an  orb  that  is  only  variable  at  our 
caprice,  and  contemplating  a  woman  who  shifts  and  quivers 
ever  with  her  own,  how  vast  the  difference  ! 

And  consider  that  this  woman  is  about  to  be  one's  wife  ! 

He  could  have  believed  (if  he  had  not  known  full  surely 
that  such  things  are  not)  he  was  in  the  hands  of  a  witch. 

Lady  Camper's  "adieu"  was  perfectly  beautiful  —  a  kind, 
cordial,  intimate,  above  all,  to  satisfy  his  present  craving, 
it  was  a  lady-like  adieu  —  the  adieu  of  a  delicate  and  ele- 
gant woman,  who  had  hardly  left  her  anchorage  by  forty 
to  sail  into  the  fifties. 

Alas !  he  had  her  word  for  it,  that  she  was  not  less  than 
seventy.  And,  worse,  she  had  betrayed  most  melancholy 
signs  of  sourness  and  agedness  as  soon  as  he  had  sworn 
himself  to  her  fast  and  fixed. 

"The  road  is  open  to  you  to  retreat,"  were  her  last 
words. 

"  My  road,"  he  answered  gallantly,  "  is  forward." 

He  was  drawing  backward  as  he  said  it,  and  something 
provoked  her  to  smile. 


CHAPTER  V 


It  is  a  noble  thing  to  say  that  your  road  is  forward,  and  it 
befits  a  man  of  battles.  General  Ople  was  too  loyal  a  gen- 
tleman to  think  of  any  other  road.  Still,  albeit  not  gifted 
with  imagination,  he  could  not  avoid  the  feeling  that  he  had 
set  his  face  to  Winter.     He  found  himself  suddenly  walk- 


AND  LADY   CAMPER  287 

ing  straight  into  the  heart  of  Winter,  and  a  nipping  Winter. 
For  her  ladyship  had  proved  acutely  nipping.  His  little 
customary  phrases,  to  which  Lady  Camper  objected,  he 
could  see  no  harm  in  whatever.  Conversing  with  her  in 
the  privacy  of  domestic  life  would  never  be  the  flowing 
business  that  it  is  for  other  men.  It  would  demand 
perpetual  vigilance,  hop,  skip,  jump,  flounderings,  and 
apologies. 

This  was  not  a  pleasing  prospect. 

On  the  L'ther  hand,  she  was  the  niece  of  an  earl.  She 
was  wealthy.  She  might  be  an  excellent  friend  to  Eliza- 
beth ;  and  she  could  be,  when  she  liked,  both  command- 
ingly  and  bewitchingly  ladylike. 

Good !  But  he  was  a  General  Officer  of  not  more  than 
fifty-five,  in  his  full  vigour,  and  she  a  woman  of  seventy ! 

The  prospect  was  bleak.  It  resembled  an  outlook  on 
the  steppes.  In  point  of  the  discipline  he  was  to  expect, 
he  might  be  compared  to  a  raw  recruit,  and  in  his  own 
home ! 

However,  she  was  a  woman  of  mind.  One  would  be 
proud  of  her. 

But  did  he  know  the  worst  of  her  ?  A  dreadful  presenti- 
ment, that  he  did  not  know  the  worst  of  her,  rolled  an 
ocean  of  gloom  upon  General  Ople,  striking  out  one 
solitary  thought  in  the  obscurity,  namely,  that  he  was 
about  to  receive  punishment  for  retiring  from  active  ser- 
vice to  a  life  of  ease  at  a  comparatively  early  age,  when 
still  in  marching  trim.  And  the  shadow  of  the  thought 
was,  that  he  deserved  the  punishment  ! 

He  was  in  his  garden  with  the  dawn.  Hard  exercise  is 
the  best  of  opiates  for  dismal  reflections.  The  General 
discomposed  his  daughter  by  offering  to  accompany  her  on 
her  morning  ride  before  breakfast.  She  considered  that 
it  would  fatigue  him.  "  I  am  not  a  man  of  eighty !  "  he 
cried.     He  could  have  wished  he  had  been. 

He  led  the  way  to  the  park,  where  they  soon  had 
sight  of  young  Holies,  who  checked  his  horse  and  spied 
them  like  a  vedette,  but,  perceiving  that  he  had  been 
seen,  came  cantering,  and  hailing  the  General  with  hearty 
wonderment. 

"  And  what 's  this  the  world  says,  General  ?  "  said  he. 


288  THE  CASE  OF   GENERAL  OPLE 

"  But  we  all  applaud  your  taste.     My  aunt  Angela  was  the 
handsomest  woman  of  her  time." 

The  General  murmured  in  confusion,  "  Dear  me ! "  and 
looked  at  the  young  man,  thinking  that  he  could  not  have 
known  the  time. 

"Is  all  arranged,  my  dear  General  ?" 

"  Nothing  is  arranged,  and  I  beg  —  I  say  I  beg  ...  J 
came  out  for  fresh  air  and  pace." 

The  General  rode  frantically. 

In  spite  of  the  fresh  air,  he  was  unable  to  eat  at  break- 
fast. He  was  bound,  of  course,  to  present  himself  to  Lady 
Camper,  in  common  civility,  immediately  after  it. 

And  first,  what  were  the  phrases  he  had  to  avoid  utter- 
ing in  her  presence  ?  He  could  remember  only  the  "  gentle- 
manly residence."  And  it  was  a  gentlemanly  residence,  he 
thought  as  he  took  leave  of  it.  It  was  one,  neatly  named 
to  fit  the  place.  Lady  Camper  is  indeed  a  most  eccentric 
person!    he  decided  from  his  experience  of  her. 

He  was  rather  astonished  that  young  Holies  should  have 
spoken  so  coolly  of  his  aunt's  leaning  to  matrimony ;  but 
perhaps  her  exact  age  was  unknown  to  the  younger  mem- 
bers of  her  family. 

This  idea  refreshed  him  by  suggesting  the  extremely 
honourable  nature  of  Lady  Camper's  uncomfortable  con- 
fession. 

He  himself  had  an  uncomfortable  confession  to  make. 
He  would  have  to  speak  of  his  income.  He  was  living 
up  to  the  edges  of  it. 

She  is  an  upright  woman,  and  I  must  be  the  same !  he 
said,  fortunately  not  in  her  hearing. 

The  subject  was  disagreeable  to  a  man  sensitive  on  the 
topic  of  money,  and  feeling  that  his  prudence  had  recently 
been  misled  to  keep  up  appearances. 

Lady  Camper  was  in  her  garden,  reclining  under  her 
parasol.  A  chair  was  beside  her,  to  which,  acknowledging 
the  salutation  of  her  suitor,  she  waved  him. 

"You  have  met  my  nephew  Reginald  this  morning, 
General  ?  " 

"  Curiously,  in  the  park,  this  morning,  before  breakfast, 
I  did,  yes.  Hem!  I,  I  say  I  did  meet  him.  Has  your 
ladyship  seen  him  ?  v 


AND  LADY  CAMBER  £U) 

"  No.     The  park  is  very  pretty  in  the  early  morning.* 

"  Sweetly  pretty." 

Lady  Camper  raised  her  head,  and  with  the  mildness  of 
assured  dictatorship,  pronounced :  "  Never  say  that  before 
me." 

"  I  submit,  my  lady,"  said  the  poor  scourged  man. 

"Why,  naturally  you  do.  Vulgar  phrases  have  to  be 
endured,  except  when  our  intimates  are  guilty,  and  then 
we  are  not  merely  offended,  we  are  compromised  by  them. 
You  are  still  of  the  mind  in  which  you  left  me  yesterday  ? 
You  are  one  day  older.     But  I  warn  you,  so  am  I." 

"  Yes,  my  lady,  we  cannot,  I  say  we  cannot  check  time. 
Decidedly  of  the  same  mind.     Quite  so." 

"  Oblige  me  by  never  saying  <  Quite  so.'  My  lawyer  says 
it.  It  reeks  of  the  City  of  London.  And  do  not  look  so 
miserable." 

"  I,  madam  ?  my  dear  lady ! "  the  General  flashed  out 
in  a  radiance  that  dulled  instantly. 

"  Well,"  said  she,  cheerfully,  "  and  you  're  for  the  old 
woman?" 

"  For  Lady  Camper." 

"You  are  seductive  in  your  flatteries,  General.  Well, 
then,  we  have  to  speak  of  business." 

"  My  affairs "  General   Ople   was   beginning,  with 

perturbed  forehead ;  but  Lady  Camper  held  up  her  finger. 

"  We  will  touch  on  your  affairs  incidentally.  Now  listen 
to  me,  and  do  not  exclaim  until  I  have  finished.  You  know 
that  these  two  young  ones  have  been  whispering  over  the 
wall  for  some  months.  They  have  been  meeting  on  the 
river  and  in  the  park  habitually,  apparently  with  your 
consent." 

"My  lady!" 

"  I  did  not  say  with  your  connivance." 

"  You  mean  my  daughter  Elizabeth  ?  " 

"  And  my  nephew  Reginald.  We  have  named  them,  if 
that  advances  us.  Now,  the  end  of  such  meetings  is  mar- 
riage, and  the  sooner  the  better,  if  they  are  to  continue. 
I  would  rather  they  should  not ;  I  do  not  hold  it  good  for 
young  soldiers  to  marry.  But  if  they  do,  it  is  very  certain 
that  their  pay  will  not  support  a  family ;  and  in  a  marriage 
of  two  healthy  young  people,  we  have  to  assume  the  ex- 


290  THE  CASE  OF   GENEEAL  OPLE 

istence  of  the  family.  You  have  allowed  matters  to  go  so 
far  that  the  boy  is  hot  in  love ;  I  suppose  the  girl  is,  too. 
She  is  a  nice  girl.  I  do  not  object  to  her  personally.  But 
I  insist  that  a  settlement  be  made  on  her  before  I  give  my 
nephew  one  penny.  Hear  me  out,  for  I  am  not  fond  of 
business,  and  shall  be  glad  to  have  done  with  these  expla- 
nations. Reginald  has  nothing  of  his  own.  He  is  my 
sister's  son,  and  I  loved  her,  and  rather  like  the  boy.  He 
has  at  present  four  hundred  a-year  from  me.  I  will  double 
it,  on  the  condition  that  you  at  once  make  over  ten  thou- 
sand —  not  less  ;  and  let  it  be  yes  or  no !  —  to  be  settled 
on  your  daughter  and  go  to  her  children,  independent  of 
the  husband  —  cela  va  sans  dire.  Now  you  may  speak, 
General." 

The  General  spoke,  with  breath  fetched  from  the  deeps : 
"  Ten   thousand   pounds  !     Hem  !     Ten !     Hem,  frankly 

—  ten,  my  lady !  One's  income  —  I  am  quite  taken  by 
surprise.  I  say  Elizabeth's  conduct  —  though,  poor  child! 
it  is  natural  to  her  to  seek  a  mate,  I  mean,  to  accept  a  mate 
and  an  establishment,  and  Reginald  is  a  very  hopeful  fellow 

—  I  was  saying,  they  jump  on  me  out  of  an  ambush,  and  I 
wish  them  every  happiness.  And  she  is  an  ardent  soldier, 
and  a  soldier  she  must  marry.     But  ten  thousand!  " 

"  It  is  to  secure  the  happiness  of  your  daughter,  General." 

"  Pounds !  my  lady.     It  would  rather  cripple  me." 

"  You  would  have  my  house,  General ;  you  would  have 

the  moiety,  as  the  lawyers  say,  of  my  purse ;  you  would 

have  horses,  carriages,  servants ;  I  do  not  divine  what  more 

you  would  wish  to  have." 

"But,  madam  —  a  pensioner  on  the  Government!  I  can 
look  back  on  past  services,  I  say  old  services,  and  I  accept 
my  position.  But,  madam,  a  pensioner  on  my  wife,  bring- 
ing next  to  nothing  to  the  common  estate!  I  fear  my  self- 
respect  would,  I  say  would  .  .  ." 

"  Well,  and  what  would  it  do,  General  Ople  ?  " 
"I  was  saying,  my  self-respect  as  my  wife's  pensioner, 
my  lady.     I  could  not  come  to  her  empty-handed." 

11  Do  you  expect  that  I  should  be  the  person  to  settle 
money  on  your  daughter,  to  save  her  from  mischances  ? 
A  rakish  husband,  for  example ;  for  Reginald  is  young, 
and  no  one  can  guess  what  will  be  made  of  him." 


AND   LADY   CAMPER  291 

"  Undoubtedly  your  ladyship  is  correct.  We  might  try 
absence  for  the  poor  girl.  I  have  no  female  relation,  but 
I  could  send  her  to  the  sea-side  to  a  lady-friend." 

"General  Ople,  I  forbid  you,  as  you  value  my  esteem, 
ever  —  and  I  repeat,  I  forbid  you  ever  —  to  afflict  my  ears 
with  that  phrase,  '  lady-friend! '  " 

The  General  blinked  in  a  state  of  insurgent  humility. 

These  incessant  whippings  could  not  but  sting  the  hum- 
blest of  men ;  and  "  lady-friend,"  he  was  sure,  was  a  very 
common  term,  used,  he  was  sure,  in  the  very  best  society. 
He  had  never  heard  Her  Majesty  speak  at  levees  of  a  lady- 
friend,  but  he  was  quite  sure  that  she  had  one  ;  and  if  so, 
what  could  be  the  objection  to  her  subjects  mentioning  it 
as  a  term  to  suit  their  own  circumstances  ? 

He  was  harassed  and  perplexed  by  old  Lady  Camper's 
treatment  of  him,  and  he  resolved  not  to  call  her  Angela 
even  upon  supplication  —  not  that  day,  at  least. 

She  said,  "  You  will  not  need  to  bring  property  of  any 
kind  to  the  common  estate ;  I  neither  look  for  it  nor  desire 
it.  The  generous  thing  for  you  to  do  would  be  to  give 
your  daughter  all  you  have,   and  come  to  me." 

"  But,  Lady  Camper,  if  I  denude  myself  or  curtail  my 
income  —  a  man  at  his  wife's  discretion,.  I  was  saying  a 
man  at  his  wife's  mercy!  .   .   ." 

General  Ople  was  really  forced,  by  his  manly  dignity, 
to  make  this  protest  on  its  behalf.  He  did  not  see  how 
he  could  have  escaped  doing  so;  he  was  more  an  agent 
than  a  principal.  "  My  wife  's  mercy,"  he  said  again,  but 
simply  as  a  herald  proclaiming  superior  orders. 

Lady  Camper's  brows  were  wrathful.  A  deep  blood- 
crimson  overcame  the  rouge,  and  gave  her  a  terrible  stormy 
look. 

"  The  congress  now  ceases  to  sit,  and  the  treaty  is  not 
concluded,"  was  all  she  said. 

She  rose,  bowed  to  him,  "Good  morning,  General,"  and 
turned  her  back. 

He  sighed.  He  was  a  free  man.  But  this  could  not  be 
denied  —  whatever  the  lady's  age,  she  was  a  grand  woman 
in  her  carriage,  and  when  looking  angry,  she  had  a  queen- 
like aspect  that  raised  her  out  of  the  reckoning  of  time. 

So  now  he  knew  there  was  a  worse  behind  what  he  had 


292  THE   CASE   OF  GENERAL  OPLE 

previously  known.     He  was  precipitate  in  calling  it  the 
worst.     "  Now,"  said  he  to  himself,  " I  know  the  worst! " 

No  man  should  ever  say  it.     Least  of  all,  one  who  has 
entered  into  relations  with  an  eccentric  lady. 


CHAPTER  VI 


Politeness  required  that  General  Ople  should  not  appear 
to  rejoice  in  his  dismissal  as  a  suitor,  and  should  at  least 
make  some  show  of  holding  himself  at  the  beck  of  a  recon- 
sidering mind.  He  was  guilty  of  running  up  to  London 
early  next  day,  and  remaining  absent  until  nightfall ;  and 
he  did  the  same  on  the  two  following  days.  When  he 
presented  himself  at  Lady  Camper's  lodge-gates,  the  as- 
tonishing intelligence,  that  her  ladyship  had  departed  for 
the  Continent  and  Egypt,  gave  him  qualms  of  remorse, 
which  assumed  a  more  definite  shape  in  something  like 
awe  of  her  triumphant  constitution.  He  forbore  to  men- 
tion her  age,  for  he  was  the  most  honourable  of  men,  but 
a  habit  of  tea-table  talkativeness  impelled  him  to  say  and 
repeat  an  idea  that  had  visited  him,  to  the  effect,  that  Lady 
Camper  was  one  of  those  wonderful  women  who  are  com- 
parable to  brilliant  generals,  and  defend  themselves  from 
the  siege  of  Time  by  various  aggressive  movements.  Fear- 
ful of  not  being  understood,  owing  to  the  rarity  of  the 
occasions  when  the  squat  plain  squad  of  honest  Saxon 
regulars  at  his  command  were  called  upon  to  explain  an 
idea,  he  re-cast  the  sentence.  P>ut,  as  it  happened  that 
the  regulars  of  his  vocabulary  were  not  numerous,  and  not 
accustomed  to  work  upon  thoughts  and  images,  his  repe- 
titions rather  succeeded  in  exposing  the  piece  of  knowledge 
he  had  recently  acquired  than  in  making  his  meaning 
plainer.  So  we  need  not  marvel  that  his  acquaintances 
should  suppose  him  to  be  secretly  aware  of  an  extreme 
degree  in  which  Lady  Camper  was  a  veteran. 

General  Ople  entered  into  the  gaieties  of  the  neighbour- 
hood once  more,  and  passed  through  the  Winter  cheerfully. 
In  justice  to  him,  however,  it  should  be  said  that  to  the 


AND   LADY   CAMPER  293 

intent  dwelling  of  his  mind  upon  Lady  Camper,  and  not  to 
the  festive  life  he  led,  was  due  his  entire  ignorance  of  his 
daughter's  unhappiness.  She  lived  with  him,  and  yet  it 
was  in  other  houses  he  learnt  that  she  was  unhappy. 
After  his  last  interview  with  Lady  Camper,  he  had  in- 
formed Elizabeth  of  the  ruinous  and  preposterous  amount 
of  money  demanded  of  him  for  a  settlement  upon  her :  and 
Elizabeth,  like  the  girl  of  good  sense  that  she  was,  had 
replied  immediately,  "It  could  not  be  thought  of,  papa." 
He  had  spoken  to  Reginald  likewise.  The  young  man 
fell  into  a  dramatic  tearing-of-hair  and  long-stride  fury, 
not  ill  becoming  an  enamoured  dragoon.  But  he  main- 
tained that  his  aunt,  though  an  eccentric,  was  a  cordially 
kind  woman.  He  seemed  to  feel,  if  he  did  not  partly 
hint,  that  the  General  might  have  accepted  Lady  Camper's 
terms.  The  young  officer  could  no  longer  be  welcome  at 
Douro  Lodge,  so  the  General  paid  him  a  morning  call  at 
his  quarters,  and  was  distressed  to  find  him  breakfasting 
very  late,  tapping  eggs  that  he  forgot  to  open  — one  of 
the  surest  signs  of  a  young  man  downright  and  deep  in 
love,  as  the  General  knew  from  experience  —  and  sur- 
rounded by  uncut  sporting  journals  of  past  weeks,  which 
dated  from  the  day  when  his  blow  had  struck  him,  as 
accurately  as  the  watch  of  the  drowned  man  marks  his 
minute.  Lady  Camper  had  gone  to  Italy,  and  was  in  com- 
munication with  her  nephew:  Reginald  was  not  further 
explicit.  His  legs  were  very  prominent  in  his  despair, 
and  his  fingers  frequently  performed  the  part  of  blunt 
combs;  consequently  the  General  was  impressed  by  his 
passion  for  Elizabeth.  The  girl  who,  if  she  was  often 
meditative,  always  met  his  eyes  with  a  smile,  and  quietly 
said  "Yes,  papa,"  and  "No,  papa,"  gave  him  little  concern 
as  to  the  state  of  her  feelings.  Yet  everybody  said  now 
that  she  was  unhappy.  Mrs.  Barcop,  the  widow,  raised 
her  voice  above  the  rest.  So  attentive  was  she  to  Eliza- 
beth that  the  General  had  it  kindly  suggested  to  him,  that 
someone  was  courting  him  through  his  daughter.  He 
gazed  at  the  widow.  Now  she  was  not  much  past  thirty; 
and  it  was  really  singular  —  he  could  have  laughed  — 
thinking  of  Mrs.  Barcop  set  him  persistently  thinking  of 
Lady  Camper.     That  is  to  say,  his   mad   fancy   reverted 


294  THE  CASE  OF  GENERAL  OPLE 

from  the  lady  of  perhaps  thirty -five  to  the  lady  of  seventy! 
Such,  thought  he,  is  genius  in  a  woman!  Of  his  neigh- 
bours generally,  Mrs.  Baerens,  the  wife  of  a  German 
merchant,  an  exquisite  player  on  the  pianoforte,  was  the 
most  inclined  to  lead  him  to  speak  of  Lady  Camper.  She 
was  a  kind  prattling  woman,  and  was  known  to  have  been 
a  governess  before  her  charms  withdrew  the  gastronomic 
Gottfried  Baerens  from  his  devotion  to  the  well-served  City 
Club,  where,  as  he  exclaimed  (ever  turning  fondly  to  his 
wife  as  he  vocalized  the  compliment),  he  had  found  every 
necessity,  every  luxury,  in  life,  "  as  you  cannot  have  dem 
out  of  London  —  all  save  de  female!"  Mrs.  Baerens,  a 
lady  of  Teutonic  extraction,  was  distinguishable  as  of  that 
sex;  at  least,  she  was  not  masculine.  She  spoke  with 
great  respect  of  Lady  Camper  and  her  family,  and  seemed 
to  agree  in  the  General's  eulogies  of  Lady  Camper's  consti- 
tution.    Still  he  thought  she  eyed  him  strangely. 

One  April  morning  the  General  received  a  letter  with  the 
Italian  postmark.  Opening  it  with  his  usual  calm  and 
happy  curiosity,  he  perceived  that  it  was  composed  of  pen- 
and-ink  drawings.  And  suddenly  his  heart  sank  like  a 
scuttled  ship.     He  saw  himself  the  victim  of  a  caricature. 

The  first  sketch  had  merely  seemed  picturesque,  and  he 
supposed  it  a  clever  play  of  fancy  by  some  travelling 
friend,  or  perhaps  an  actual  scene  slightly  exaggerated. 
Even  on  reading,  "  A  distant  view  of  the  city  of  Wilson- 
ople,"  he  was  only  slightly  enlightened.  His  heart  beat 
still  with  befitting  regularity.  But  the  second  and  the 
third  sketches  betrayed  the  terrible  hand.  The  distant 
view  of  the  city  of  Wilsonople  was  fair  with  glittering 
domes,  which,  in  the  succeeding  near  view,  proved  to  have 
been  soap-bubbles,  for  a  place  of  extreme  flatness,  begirt 
with  crazy  old-fashioned  fortifications,  was  shown ;  and  in 
the  third  view,  representing  the  interior,  stood  for  sole 
place  of  habitation,  a  sentry-box. 

Most  minutely  drawn,  and,  alas !  with  fearful  accuracy, 
a  military  gentleman  in  undress  occupied  the  box.  Not  a 
doubt  could  exist  as  to  the  person  it  was  meant  to  be. 

The  General  tried  hard  to  remain  incredulous.  He 
remembered  too  well  who  had  called  him  Wilsonople. 

But  here  was  the  extraordinary  thing  that  sent  him  over 


AND  LADY   CAMPER  295 

the  neighbourhood  canvassing  for  exclamations:  on  the 
fourth  page  was  the  outline  of  a  lovely  feminine  hand, 
holding  a  pen,  as  in  the  act  of  shading,  and  under  it  these 
words:  "  What  I  say  is,  I  say  I  think  it  exceedingly 
unladylike." 

Now  consider  the  General's  feelings  when,  turning  to 
this  fourth  page,  having  these  very  words  in  his  mouth, 
as  the  accurate  expression  of  his  thoughts,  he  discovered 
them  written! 

An  enemy  who  anticipates  the  actions  of  our  mind  has  a 
quality  of  the  malignant  divine  that  may  well  inspire 
terror.  The  senses  of  General  Ople  were  struck  by  the 
aspect  of  a  lurid  Goddess,  who  penetrated  him,  read  him 
through,  and  had  both  power  and  will  to  expose  and  make 
him  ridiculous  for  ever. 

The  loveliness  of  the  hand,  too,  in  a  perplexing  manner 
contested  his  denunciation  of  her  conduct.  It  was  ladylike 
eminently,  and  it  involved  him  in  a  confused  mixture  of 
the  moral  and  material,  as  great  as  young  people  are  known 
to  feel  when  they  make  the  attempt  to  separate  them, 
in  one  of  their  frenzies. 

With  a  petty  bitter  laugh  he  folded  the  letter,  put  it  in 
his  breast-pocket,  and  sallied  forth  for  a  walk,  chiefly  to 
talk  to  himself  about  it.  But  as  it  absorbed  him  entirely, 
he  showed  it  to  the  rector,  whom  he  met,  and  what  the 
rector  said  is  of  no  consequence,  for  General  Ople  listened 
to  no  remarks,  calling  in  succession  on  the  Pollingtons, 
the  Goslings,  the  Baerens',  and  others,  early  though  it 
was,  and  the  lords  of  those  houses  absent  amassing  hoards ; 
and  to  the  ladies  everywhere  he  displayed  the  sketches  he 
had  received,  observing,  that  Wilsonople  meant  himself; 
and  there  he  was,  he  said,  pointing  at  the  capped  fellow 
in  the  sentry-box,  done  unmistakably.  The  likeness 
indeed  was  remarkable.  "She  is  a  woman  of  genius,"  he 
ejaculated,  with  utter  melancholy.  Mrs.  Baerens,  by  the 
aid  of  a  magnifying  glass,  assisted  him  to  read  a  line  under 
the  sentry-box,  that  he  had  taken  for  a  mere  trembling 
dash;  it  ran,  A  gentlemanly  residence. 

"What  eyes  she  has!  "  the  General  exclaimed;  "I  say  it 
is  miraculous  what  eyes  she  has  at  her  time  of  ...  I  was 
saying,  I  should  never  have  known  it  was  writing." 


296         THE  CASE  OF  GENERAL  OPLE 

He  sighed  heavily.  His  shuddering  sensitiveness  to 
caricature  was  increased  by  a  certain  evident  dread  of  the 
hand  which  struck;  the  knowing  that  he  was  absolutely 
bare  to  this  woman,  defenceless,  open  to  exposure  in  his 
little  whims,  foibles,  tricks,  incompetencies,  in  what  lay 
in  his  heart,  and  the  words  that  would  come  to  his  tongue. 
He  felt  like  a  man  haunted. 

So  deeply  did  he  feel  the  blow,  that  people  asked  how  it 
was  that  he  could  be  so  foolish  as  to  dance  about  assisting 
Lady  Camper  in  her  efforts  to  make  him  ridiculous;  he 
acted  the  parts  of  publisher  and  agent  for  the  fearful  cari- 
caturist. In  truth,  there  was  a  strangely  double  reason  for 
his  conduct;  he  danced  about  for  sympathy,  he  had  the 
intensest  craving  for  sympathy,  but  more  than  this,  or 
quite  as  much,  he  desired  to  have  the  powers  of  his  enemy 
widely  appreciated;  in  the  first  place,  that  he  might  be 
excused  to  himself  for  wincing  under  them,  and  secondly, 
because  an  awful  admiration  of  her,  that  should  be  deep- 
ened by  a  corresponding  sentiment  around  him,  helped  him 
to  enjoy  luxurious  recollections  of  an  hour  when  he  was 
near  making  her  his  own  —  his  own,  in  the  holy  abstract 
contemplation  of  marriage,  without  realizing  their  probable 
relative  conditions  after  the  ceremony. 

"I  say,  that  is  the  very  image  of  her  ladyship's  hand," 
he  was  especially  fond  of  remarking,  "  I  say  it  is  a  beauti- 
ful hand." 

He  carried  the  letter  in  his  pocket-book;  and  beginning 
to  fancy  that  she  had  done  her  worst,  for  he  could  not 
imagine  an  inventive  malignity  capable  of  pursuing  the 
theme,  he  spoke  of  her  treatment  of  him  with  compassion- 
ate regret,  not  badly  assumed  from  being  partly  sincere. 

Two  letters  dated  in  France,  the  one  Dijon,  the  other 
Fontainebleau,  arrived  together;  and  as  the  General  knew 
Lady  Camper  to  be  returning  to  England,  he  expected  that 
she  was  anxious  to  excuse  herself  to  him.  His  fingers  were 
not  so  confident,  for  he  tore  one  of  the  letters  to  open  it. 

The  City  of  Wilsonople  was  recognizable  immediately. 
So  likewise  was  the  sole  inhabitant. 

General  Ople's  petty  bitter  laugh  recurred,  like  a  weak- 
chested  patient's  cough  in  the  shifting  of  our  winds 
eastward. 


AND   LADY   CAMPER  297 

A  faceless  woman's  shadow  kneels  on  the  ground  near 
the  sentry-box,  weeping.  A  faceless  shadow  of  a  young 
man  on  horseback  is  beheld  galloping  toward  a  gulf.  The 
sole  inhabitant  contemplates  his  largely  substantial  full 
fleshed  face  and  figure  in  a  glass. 

Next,  we  see  the  standard  of  Great  Britain  furled ;  next, 
unfurled  and  borne  by  a  troop  of  shadows  to  the  sentry- 
box.  The  officer  within  says,  "I  say  I  should  be  very 
happy  to  carry  it,  but  I  cannot  quit  this  gentlemanly 
residence." 

Next,  the  standard  is  shown  assailed  by  popguns. 
Several  of  the  shadows  are  prostrate.  "I  was  saying,  I 
assure  you  that  nothing  but  this  gentlemanly  residence 
prevents  me  from  heading  you,"  says  the  gallant  officer. 

General  Ople  trembled  with  protestant  indignation  when 
he  saw  himself  reclining  in  a  magnified  sentry-box,  while 
detachments  of  shadows  hurry  to  him  to  show  him  the 
standard  of  his  country  trailing  in  the  dust;  and  he  is 
maliciously  made  to  say,  "I  dislike  responsibility.  I  say 
I  am  a  fervent  patriot,  and  very  fond  of  my  comforts,  but 
I  shun  responsibility." 

The  second  letter  contained  scenes  between  Wilsonople 
and  the  Moon. 

He  addresses  her  as  his  neighbour,  and  tells  her  of  his 
triumphs  over  the  sex. 

He  requests  her  to  inform  him  whether  she  is  a  "  female, " 
that  she  may  be  triumphed  over. 

He  hastens  past  her  window  on  foot,  with  his  head  bent, 
just  as  the  General  had  been  in  the  habit  of  walking. 

He  drives  a  mouse-pony  furiously  by. 

He  cuts  down  a  tree,  that  she  may  peep  through. 

Then,  from  the  Moon's  point  of  view,  Wilsonople,  a 
Silenus,  is  discerned  in  an  arm-chair  winking  at  a  couple 
too  plainly  pouting  their  lips  for  a  doubt  of  their  inten- 
tions to  be  entertained. 

A  fourth  letter  arrived,  bearing  date  of  Paris.  This  one 
illustrated  Wilsonople's  courtship  of  the  Moon,  and  ended 
with  his  "saying,"  in  his  peculiar  manner,  "  In  spite  of  her 
paint  I  could  not  have  conceived  her  age  to  be  so  enormous." 

How  break  off  his  engagement  with  the  Lady  Moon  ? 
Consent  to  none  of  her  terms! 


298         THE  CASE  OF  GENERAL  OPLE 

Little  used  as  he  was  to  read  behind  a  veil,  acuteness  o$ 
suffering  sharpened  the  General's  intelligence  to  a  degree 
that  sustained  him  in  animated  dialogue  with  each  suc- 
ceeding sketch,  or  poisoned  arrow  whirring  at  him  from 
the  moment  his  eyes  rested  on  it;  and  here  are  a  few 
samples :  — 

"  Wilsonople  informs  the  Moon  that  she  is  '  sweetly 
pretty.' 

He  thanks  her  with  '  thanks  '  for  a  handsome  piece  of 
lunar  green  cheese. 

He  points  to  her,  apparently  telling  some  one,  '  my  lady- 
friend.  ' 

He  sneezes  '  Bijou!  bijou!  bijou! '  " 

They  were  trifles,  but  they  attacked  his  habits  of  speech; 
and  he  began  to  grow  more  and  more  alarmingly  absurd  in 
each  fresh  caricature  of  his  person. 

He  looked  at  himself  as  the  malicious  woman's  hand  had 
shaped  him.  It  was  unjust;  it  was  no  resemblance  —  and 
yet  it  was !  There  was  a  corner  of  likeness  left  that  leav- 
ened the  lump;  henceforth  he  must  walk  abroad  with  this 
distressing  image  of  himself  before  his  eyes,  instead  of  the 
satisfactory  reflex  of  the  man  who  had,  and  was  happy 
in  thinking  that  he  had,  done  mischief  in  his  time.  Such 
an  end  for  a  conquering  man  was  too  pathetic. 

The  General  surprised  himself  talking  to  himself  in 
something  louder  than  a  hum  at  neighbours'  dinner-tables. 
He  looked  about  and  noticed  that  people  were  silently 
watching  him. 


CHAPTER  VII 


Lady  Camper's  return  was  the  subject  of  speculation  in 
the  neighbourhood,  for  most  people  thought  she  would 
cease  to  persecute  the  General  with  her  preposterous  and 
unwarrantable  pen-and-ink  sketches  when  living  so  closely 
proximate;  and  how  he  would  behave  was  the  question. 
Those  who  made  a  hero  of  him  were  sure  he  would  treat 
her  with  disdain.     Others  were  uncertain.     He  had  been 


AND   LADY   CAMPER  299 

so  severely  hit  that  it  seemed  possible  he  would  not  show 
much  spirit. 

He,  for  his  part,  had  come  to  entertain  such  dread  of 
the  post,  that  Lady  Camper's  return  relieved  him  of  his 
morning  apprehensions;  and  he  would  have  forgiven  her, 
though  he  feared  to  see  her,  if  only  she  had  promised  to 
leave  him  in  peace  for  the  future.  He  feared  to  see  her, 
because  of  the  too  probable  furnishing  of  fresh  matter  for 
her  ladyship's  hand.  Of  course  he  could  not  avoid  being 
seen  by  her,  and  that  was  a  particular  misery.  A  gentle- 
manly humility,  or  demureness  of  aspect,  when  seen, 
would,  he  hoped,  disarm  his  enemy.  It  should,  he  thought. 
He  had  borne  unheard-of  things.  No  one  of  his  friends 
and  acquaintances  knew,  they  could  not  know,  what  he 
had  endured.  It  had  caused  him  fits  of  stammering.  It 
had  destroyed  the  composure  of  his  gait.  Elizabeth  had 
informed  him  that  he  talked  to  himself  incessantly,  and 
aloud.  She,  poor  child,  looked  pale  too.  She  was  evidently 
anxious  about  him. 

Young  E-olles,  whom  he  had  met  now  and  then,  persisted 
in  praising  his  aunt's  good  heart.  So,  perhaps,  having 
satiated  her  revenge,  she  might  now  be  inclined  for  peace, 
on  the  terms  of  distant  civility. 

"Yes!  poor  Elizabeth!"  sighed  the  General,  in  pity  of 
the  poor  girl's  disappointment;  "poor  Elizabeth!  she  little 
guesses  what  her  father  has  gone  through.  Poor  child! 
I  say,  she  has  n't  an  idea  of  my  sufferings." 

General  Ople  delivered  his  card  at  Lady  Camper's  lodge 
gates,  and  escaped  to  his  residence  in  a  state  of  prickly 
heat  that  required  the  brushing  of  his  hair  with  hard 
brushes  for  several  minutes  to  comfort  and  re-establish 
him. 

He  had  fallen  to  working  in  his  garden,  when  Lady 
Camper's  card  was  brought  to  him  an  hour  after  the 
delivery  of  his  own;  a  pleasing  promptitude,  showing  signs 
of  repentance,  and  suggesting  to  the  General  instantly 
some  sharp  sarcasms  upon  women,  which  he  had  come 
upon  in  quotations  in  the  papers  and  the  pulpit,  his  two 
main  sources  of  information. 

Instead  of  handing  back  the  card  to  the  maid,  he  stuck 
it  in  his  hat  and  went  on  digging. 


300        THE  CASE  OF  GENEEAL  OPLE 

The  first  of  a  series  of  letters  containing  shameless  real- 
istic caricatures  was  handed  to  him  the  afternoon  follow- 
ing. They  came  fast  and  thick.  Not  a  day's  interval  of 
grace  was  allowed.  Niobe  under  the  shafts  of  Diana  was 
hardly  less  violently  and  mortally  assailed.  The  deadli- 
ness  of  the  attack  lay  in  the  ridicule  of  the  daily  habits  of 
one  of  the  most  sensitive  of  men,  as  to  his  personal  appear- 
ance, and  the  opinion  of  the  world.  He  might  have  con- 
cealed the  sketches,  but  he  could  not  have  concealed  the 
bruises,  and  people  were  perpetually  asking  the  unhappy 
General  what  he  was  saying,  for  he  spoke  to  himself  as  if 
he  were  repeating  something  to  them  for  the  tenth  time. 

"I  say,"  said  he,  "  I  say  that  for  a  lady,  really  an  edu- 
cated lady,  to  sit,  as  she  must  —  I  was  saying,  she  must 
have  sat  in  an  attic  to  have  the  right  view  of  me.  And 
there  you  see  —  this  is  what  she  has  done.  This  is  the 
last,  this  is  the  afternoon's  delivery.  Her  ladyship  has 
me  correctly  as  to  costume,  but  I  could  not  exhibit  such  a 
sketch  to  ladies." 

A  back  view  of  the  General  was  displayed  in  his  act  of 
digging. 

"I  say  I  could  not  allow  ladies  to  see  it,"  he  informed 
the  gentlemen,  who  were  suffered  to  inspect  it  freely. 

"  But  you  see,  I  have  no  means  of  escape ;  I  am  at  her 
mercy  from  morning  to  night,"  the  General  said,  with  a 
quivering  tongue,  "  unless  I  stay  at  home  inside  the  house ; 
and  that  is  death  to  me,  or  unless  I  abandon  the  place, 
and  my  lease ;  and  I  shall  —  I  say,  I  shall  find  nowhere  in 
England  for  anything  like  the  money  or  conveniences  such 
a  gent  —  a  residence  you  would  call  fit  for  a  gentleman.  I 
call  it  a  bi  ...  it  is,  in  short,  a  gem.  But  I  shall  have 
to  go." 

Young  Kolles  offered  to  expostulate  with  his  aunt 
Angela. 

The  General  said,  "Tha  ...  I  thank  you  very  much. 
I  would  not  have  her  ladyship  suppose  I  am  so  susceptible. 
I  hardly  know,"  he  confessed  pitiably,  "what  it  is  right 
to  say,  and  what  not  —  what  not.  I  —  I  —  I  never  know 
when  I  am  not  looking  a  fool.  I  hurry  from  tree  to  tree 
to  shun  the  light.  I  am  seriously  affected  in  my  appetite. 
I  say,  I  shall  have  to  go." 


AND  LADY  CAMPER  301 

Reginald  gave  him  to  understand  that  if  he  flew,  the 
shafts  would  follow  him,  for  Lady  Camper  would  never 
forgive  his  running  away,  and  was  quite  equal  to  publish- 
ing a  book  of  the  adventures  of  Wilsonople. 

Sunday  afternoon,  walking  in  the  park  with  his  daugh- 
ter on  his  arm,  General  Ople  met  Mr.  Rolles.  He  saw  that 
the  young  man  and  Elizabeth  were  mortally  pale,  and  as 
the  very  idea  of  wretchedness  directed  his  attention  to 
himself,  he  addressed  them  conjointly  on  the  subject  of 
his  persecution,  giving  neither  of  them  a  chance  of  speak- 
ing until  they  were  constrained  to  part. 

A  sketch  was  the  consequence,  in  which  a  withered 
Cupid  and  a  fading  Psyche  were  seen  divided  by  Wilson- 
ople, who  keeps  them  forcibly  asunder  with  policeman's 
fists,  while  courteously  and  elegantly  entreating  them  to 
hear  him.  "Meet,"  he  tells  them,  "as  often  as  you  like, 
in  my  company,  so  long  as  you  listen  to  me ; "  and  the 
pathos  of  his  aspect  makes  hungry  demand  for  a  sympa- 
thetic audience. 

Now,  this,  and  not  the  series  representing  the  martyr- 
dom of  the  old  couple  at  Douro  Lodge  Gates,  whose  rigid 
frames  bore  witness  to  the  close  packing  of  a  gentlemanly 
^residence,  this  was  the  sketch  General  Ople,  in  his  mad- 
ness from  the  pursuing  bite  of  the  gadfly,  handed  about  at 
Mrs.  Pollington's  lawn-party.  Some  have  said,  that  he 
should  not  have  betrayed  his  daughter ;  but  it  is  reasonable 
to  suppose  he  had  no  idea  of  his  daughter's  being  the 
Psyche.  Or  if  he  had,  it  was  indistinct,  owing  to  the  vio- 
lence of  his  personal  emotion.  Assuming  this  to  have 
been  the  very  sketch ;  he  handed  it  to  two  or  three  ladies 
in  turn,  and  was  heard  to  deliver  himself  at  intervals  in 
the  following  snatches :  "As  you  like,  my  lady,  as  you  like; 
strike,  I  say  strike;  I  bear  it;  I  say  I  bear  it.  .  .  .  If  her 
ladyship  is  unforgiving,  I  say  I  am  enduring.  ...  I  may 
go,  I  was  saying  I  may  go  mad,  but  while  I  have  my 
reason  I  walk  upright,  I  walk  upright." 

Mr.  Pollington  and  certain  City  gentlemen  hearing  the 
poor  General's  renewed  soliloquies,  were  seized  with  dis- 
gust of  Lady  Camper's  conduct,  and  stoutly  advised  an 
application  to  the  Law  Courts. 

He  gave  ear  to  them  abstractedly,  but  after  pulling  out 


302         THE  CASE  OF  GENEEAL  OPLB 

the  whole  chapter  of  the  caricatures  (which  it  seemed  that 
he  kept  in  a  case  of  morocco  leather  in  his  breast-pocket), 
showing  them,  with  comments  on  them,  and  observing, 
"  There  will  be  more,  there  must  be  more,  I  say  I  am  sure 
there  are  things  I  do  that  her  ladyship  will  discover  and 
expose,"  he  declined  to  seek  redress  or  simple  protection; 
and  the  miserable  spectacle  was  exhibited  soon  after  of  this 
courtly  man  listening  to  Mrs.  Barcop  on  the  weather,  and 
replying  in  acquiescence :  "  It  is  hot.  —  If  your  ladyship 
will  only  abstain  from  colours.  Very  hot  as  you  say, 
madam,  —  I  do  not  complain  of  pen  and  ink,  but  I  would 
rather  escape  colours.  And  I  dare  say  you  find  it  hot 
too  ?  " 

Mrs.  Barcop  shut  her  eyes  and  sighed  over  the  wreck  of 
a  handsome  military  officer. 

She  asked  him :  "  What  is  your  objection  to  colours  ?  " 

His  hand  was  at  his  breast-pocket  immediately,  as  he 
said:  "Have  you  not  seen  ?"  —  though  but  a  few  minutes 
back  he  had  shown  her  the  contents  of  the  packet,  includ- 
ing a  hurried  glance  of  the  famous  digging  scene. 

By  this  time  the  entire  district  was  in  fervid  sympathy 
with  General  Ople.  The  ladies  did  not,  as  their  lords  did, 
proclaim  astonishment  that  a  man  should  suffer  a  woman 
to  goad  him  to  a  state  of  semi-lunacy;  but  one  or  two  con- 
fessed to  their  husbands,  that  it  required  a  great  admira- 
tion of  General  Ople  not  to  despise  him,  both  for  his 
susceptibility  and  his  patience.  As  for  the  men,  they  knew 
him  to  have  faced  the  balls  in  bellowing  battle-strife; 
they  knew  him  to  have  endured  privation,  not  only  cold 
but  downright  want  of  food  and  drink  —  an  almost  unimag- 
inable horror,  to  these  brave  daily  f easters ;  so  they  could 
not  quite  look  on  him  in  contempt;  but  his  want  of  sense 
was  offensive,  and  still  more  so  his  submission  to  a  scourg- 
ing by  a  woman.  Not  one  of  them  would  have  deigned  to 
feel  it.  Would  they  have  allowed  her  to  see  that  she  could 
sting  them  ?  They  would  have  laughed  at  her.  Or  they 
would  have  dragged  her  before  a  magistrate. 

It  was  a  Sunday  in  early  Summer  when  General  Ople 
walked  to  morning  service,  unaccompanied  by  Elizabeth, 
who  was  unwell.  The  church  was  of  the  considerate  old- 
fashioned  order,  with  deaf  square  pews,  permitting  the 


AND   LADY   CAMPER  303 

mind  to  abstract  itself  from  the  sermon,  or  wrestle  at 
leisure  with  the  difficulties  presented  by  the  preacher,  as 
General  Ople  often  did,  feeling  not  a  little  in  love  with  his 
sincere  attentiveness  for  grappling  with  the  knotty  point 
and  partially  allowing  the  struggle  to  be  seen. 

The  Church  was,  besides,  a  sanctuary  for  him.  Hither 
his  enemy  did  not  come.  He  had  this  one  place  of  refuge, 
and  he  almost  looked  a  happy  man  again. 

He  had  passed  into  his  hat  and  out  of  it,  which  he 
habitually  did  standing,  when  who  should  walk  up  to 
within  a  couple  of  yards  of  him  but  Lady  Camper.  Her 
pew  was  full  of  poor  people,  who  made  signs  of  retiring. 
She  signified  to  them  that  they  were  to  sit,  then  quietly 
took  her  seat  among  them,  fronting  the  General  across 
the  aisle. 

During  the  sermon  a  low  voice,  sharp  in  contradistinc- 
tion to  the  monotone  of  the  preacher's,  was  heard  to  repeat 
these  words:  "I  say  I  am  not  sure  I  shall  survive  it." 
Considerable  muttering  in  the  same  quarter  was  heard 
besides. 

After  the  customary  ceremonious  game,  when  all  were 
free  to  move,  of  nobody  liking  to  move  first,  Lady  Camper 
and  a  charity  boy  were  the  persons  who  took  the  lead. 
But  Lady  Camper  could  not  quit  her  pew,  owing  to  the 
sticking  of  the  door.  She  smiled  as  with  her  pretty  hand 
she  twice  or  thrice  essayed  to  shake  it  open.  General 
Ople  strode  to  her  aid.  He  pulled  the  door,  gave  the 
shadow  of  a  respectful  bow,  and  no  doubt  he  would  have 
withdrawn,  had  not  Lady  Camper,  while  acknowledging 
the  civility,  placed  her  Prayer-book  in  his  hands  to  carry  at 
her  heels.  There  was  no  choice  for  him.  He  made  a  sort 
of  slipping  dance  back  for  his  hat,  and  followed  her  lady- 
ship. All  present  being  eager  to  witness  the  spectacle,  the 
passage  of  Lady  Camper  dragging  the  victim  General  be- 
hind her  was  observed  without  a  stir  of  the  well-dressed 
members  of  the  congregation,  until  a  desire  overcame  them 
to  see  how  Lady  Camper  would  behave  to  her  fish  when 
she  had  him  outside  the  sacred  edifice. 

None  could  have  imagined  such  a  scene.  Lady  Camper 
was  in  her  carriage;  General  Ople  was  holding  her 
Prayer-book,    hat  in  hand  at  the  carriage  step,  and  he 


304  THE  CASE  OF   GENERAL  OPLB 

looked  as  if  he  were  toasting  before  the  bars  of  a  furnace; 
for  while  he  stood  there,  Lady  Camper  was  rapidly  pencil- 
ling outlines  in  a  small  pocket  sketch-book.  There  are 
dogs  whose  shyness  is  put  to  it  to  endure  human  observa- 
tion and  a  direct  address  to  them,  even  on  the  part  of  their 
masters;  and  these  dear  simple  dogs  wag  tail  and  turn 
their  heads  aside  waveringly,  as  though  to  entreat  you  not 
to  eye  them  and  talk  to  them  so.  General  Ople,  in  the 
presence  of  the  sketch-book,  was  much  like  the  nervous 
animal.  He  would  fain  have  run  away.  He  glanced  at 
it,  and  round  about,  and  again  at  it,  and  at  the  heavens. 
Her  ladyship's  cruelty,  and  his  inexplicable  submission  to 
it,  were  witnessed  of  the  multitude. 

The  General's  friends  walked  very  slowly.  Lady  Cam- 
per's carriage  whirled  by,  and  the  General  came  up  with 
them,  accosting  them  and  himself  alternately.  They 
asked  him  where  Elizabeth  was,  and  he  replied,  "Poor 
child,  yes !  I  am  told  she  is  pale,  but  I  cannot  believe  I 
am  so  perfectly,  I  say  so  perfectly  ridiculous  when  I  join 
the  responses."  He  drew  forth  half  a  dozen  sheets,  and 
showed  them  sketches  that  Lady  Camper  had  taken  in 
church,  caricaturing  him  in  the  sitting  down  and  the  stand- 
ing up.  She  had  torn  them  out  of  the  book,  and  presented 
them  to  him  when  driving  off.  "  I  was  saying,  worship  in 
the  ordinary  sense  will  be  interdicted  to  me  if  her  lady- 
ship .  .  .,"  said  the  General,  woefully  shuffling  the  sketch- 
paper  sheets  in  which  he  figured. 

He  made  the  following  odd  confession  to  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Gosling  on  the  road :  —  that  he  had  gone  to  his  chest,  and 
taken  out  his  sword-belt  to  measure  his  girth,  and  found 
himself  thinner  than  when  he  left  the  service,  which  had 
not  been  the  case  before  his  attendance  at  the  last  levee  of 
the  foregoing  season.  So  the  deduction  was  obvious,  that 
Lady  Camper  had  reduced  him.  She  had  reduced  him  as 
effectually  as  a  harassing  siege. 

"But  why  do  you  pay  attention  to  her?  Why!  .  .  ," 
exclaimed  Mr.  Gosling,  a  gentleman  of  the  City,  whose 
roundness  would  have  turned  a  rifle-shot. 

"To  allow  her  to  wound  you  so  seriously! "  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Gosling. 

"Madam,  if  she  were  my  wife,"  the  General  explained, 


AND  LADY   CAMPER  305 

"I  should  feel  it.  I  say  it  is  the  fact  of  it;  I  feel  it,  if  I 
appear  so  extremely  ridiculous  to  a  human  eye,  to  any  one 
eye." 

"  To  Lady  Camper's  eye ! " 

He  admitted  it  might  be  that.  He  had  not  thought 
of  ascribing  the  acuteness  of  his  pain  to  the  miserable 
image  he  presented  in  this  particular  lady's  eye.  No;  it 
really  was  true,  curiously  true :  another  lady's  eye  might 
have  transformed  him  to  a  pumpkin  shape,  exaggerated 
all  his  foibles  fifty-fold,  and  he,  though  not  liking  it,  of 
course  not,  would  yet  have  preserved  a  certain  manly 
equanimity.  How  was  it  Lady  Camper  had  such  power 
over  him  ?  —  a  lady  concealing  seventy  years  with  a  rouge- 
box  or  paint-pot!  It  was  witchcraft  in  its  worst  character. 
He  had  for  six  months  at  her  bidding  been  actually  living 
the  life  of  a  beast,  degraded  in  his  own  esteem;  scorched 
by  every  laugh  he  heard;  running,  pursued,  overtaken, 
and  as  it  were  scored  or  branded,  and  then  let  go  for  the 
process  to  be  repeated. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


Our  young  barbarians  have  it  all  their  own  way  with  us 
when  they  fall  into  love-liking;  they  lead  us  whither  they 
please,  and  interest  us  in  their  wishings,  their  weepings, 
and  that  fine  performance,  their  kissings.  But  when  we 
see  our  veterans  tottering  to  their  fall,  we  scarcely  consent 
to  ?edhtj  having  a  wish ;  as  for  a  kiss,  we  halloo  at  them 
if  we  discover  them  on  a  byway  to  the  sacred  grove  where 
such  things  are  supposed  to  be  done  by  the  venerable. 
And  this  piece  of  rank  injustice,  not  to  say  impoliteness, 
is  entirely  because  of  an  unsound  opinion  that  Nature  is 
not  in  it,  as  though  it  were  our  esteem  for  Nature  which 
caused  us  to  disrespect  them.  They,  in  truth,  show  her 
to  us  discreet,  civilized,  in  a  decent  moral  aspect:  vistas 
of  real  life,  views  of  the  mind's  eye,  are  opened  by  their' 
touching  little  emotions;  whereas  those  bully  youngsters 
who  come  bellowing  at  us  and  catch  us   by  the  senses 

SO 


306        THE  CASE  OP  GENERAL  OPLE 

plainly  prove  either  that  we  are  no  better  than  they,  or 
that  we  give  our  attention  to  Nature  only  when  she  makes 
us  afraid  of  her.  If  we  cared  for  her,  we  should  be  up 
and  after  her  reverentially  in  her  sedater  steps,  deejay 
studying  her  in  her  slower  paces.  She  teaches  them 
nothing  when  they  are  whirling.  Our  closest  instructors, 
the  true  philosophers  —  the  story-tellers,  in  short  —  will 
learn  in  time  that  Nature  is  not  of  necessity  always  roar- 
ing, and  as  soon  as  they  do,  the  world  may  be  said  to  be 
enlightened.  Meantime,  in  the  contemplation  of  a  pair  of 
white  whiskers  fluttering  round  a  pair  of  manifestly 
painted  cheeks,  be  assured  that  Nature  is  in  it:  not  that 
hectoring  wanton  —  but  let  the  young  have  their  fun.  Let 
the  superior  interest  of  the  passions  of  the  aged  be  con- 
ceded, and  not  a  word  shall  be  said  against  the  young. 

If,  then,  Nature  is  in  it,  how  has  she  been  made  active  ? 
The  reason  of  her  launch  upon  this  last  adventure  is,  that 
she  has  perceived  the  person  who  can  supply  the  virtue 
known  to  her  by  experience  to  be  wanting.     Thus,  in  the 
broader  instance,  many  who  have  journeyed  far  down  the 
road,  turn  back  to  the  worship  of  youth,  which  they  have 
lost.     Some  are   for  the   graceful  worldliness   of  wit,  of 
which  they  have  just  share  enough  to  admire  it.     Some 
are  captivated  by  hands  that  can  wield  the  rod,  which  in 
earlier  days  they  escaped  to  their  cost.     In  the   case  o\ 
General  Ople,  it  was  partly  her  whippings  of  him,  partly 
her   penetration;    her    ability,    that    sat   so   finely   on   a 
wealthy  woman,  her  indifference  to  conventional  manners, 
that  so  well  beseemed  a  nobly-born  one,  and  more  than  all, 
her  correction  of  his  little  weaknesses  and  incompetencies, 
in  spite  of  his  dislike  of  it,  won  him.     He  began  to  ib-1  a 
sort  of  nibbling  pleasure  in  her  grotesque  sketches  of  his 
person;  a  tendency  to  recur  to  the  old  ones  while  dreading 
the  arrival  of  new.     You  hear  old  gentlemen  speak  fondly 
of  the  swish;  and  they  are  not  attached  to  pain,  but  the 
instrument   revives  their  feeling  of  youth;    and  General 
Ople  half  enjoyed,  while  shrinking,  Lady  Camper's  fore- 
gone outlines  of  him.     For  in  the  distance,  the  whip's-end 
may  look  like  a  clinging  caress  instead  of  a  stinging  flick. 
But  this  craven  melting  in  his  heart  was  rebuked  by  a  very 
worthy  pride,  that  flew  for  support  to  the  injury  she  had 


AND   LADY   CAMPER  307 

done  to  liis  devotions,  and  the  offence  to  the  sacred  edifice. 
After  thinking  over  it,  he  decided  that  he  must  quit  his 
residence;  and  as  it  appeared  to  him  in  the  light  of  duty, 
he,  with  an  unspoken  anguish,  commissioned  the  house- 
agent  of  his  town  to  sell  his  lease  or  let  the  house  fur- 
nished, without  further  parley. 

From  the  house-agent's  shop  he  turned  into  the  chem- 
ist's, for  a  tonic  —  a  foolish  proceeding,  for  he  had  received 
bracing  enough  in  the  blow  he  had  just  dealt  himself,  but 
he  had  been  cogitating  on  tonics  recently,  imagining  cer- 
tain valiant  effects  of  them,  with  visions  of  a  former  care- 
less happiness  that  they  were  likely  to  restore.  So  he  re- 
quested to  have  the  tonic  strong,  and  he  took  one  glass  of 
it  over  the  counter. 

Fifteen  minutes  after  the  draught,  he  came  in  sight  of 
his  house,  and  beholding  it,  he  could  have  called  it  a  gen- 
tlemanly residence  aloud  under  Lady  Camper's  windows, 
his  insurgency  was  of  such  violence.  He  talked  of  it 
incessantly,  but  forbore  to  tell  Elizabeth,  as  she  was 
looking  pale,  the  reason  why  its  modest  merits  touched 
him  so.  He  longed  for  the  hour  of  his  next  dose,  and  for 
a  caricature  to  follow,  that  he  might  drink  and  defy  it. 
A  caricature  was  really  due  to  him,  he  thought;  otherwise 
why  had  he  abandoned  his  bijou  dwelling  ?  Lady  Camper, 
however,  sent  none.  He  had  to  wait  a  fortnight  before 
one  came,  and  that  was  rather  a  likeness,  and  a  handsome 
likeness,  except  as  regarded  a  certain  disorderliness  in 
his  dress,  which  he  knew  to  be  very  unlike  him.  Still  it 
despatched  him  to  the  looking-glass,  to  bring  that  verifier 
of  facts  in  evidence  against  the  sketch.  While  sitting 
there  he  heard  the  housemaid's  knock  at  the  door,  and  the 
strange  intelligence  that  his  daughter  was  with  Lady 
Camper,  and  had  left  word  that  she  hoped  he  would  not 
forget  his  engagement  to  go  to  Mrs.  Baerens'  lawn-party. 

The  General  jumped  away  from  the  glass,  shouting  at 
the  absent  Elizabeth  in  a  fit  of  wrath  so  foreign  to  him, 
that  he  returned  hurriedly  to  have  another  look  at  himself, 
and  exclaimed  at  the  pitch  of  his  voice,  "  I  say  I  attribute 
it  to  an  indigestion  of  that  tonic.  Do  you  hear?"  The 
housemaid  faintly  answered  outside  the  door  that  she  did, 
alarming  him,    for  there  seemed  to  be  confusion  some* 


308  THE  CASE   OF   GENERAL  OPLE 

where.  His  hope  was  that  no  one  would  mention  Lady 
Camper's  name,  for  the  mere  thought  of  her  caused  a  rush 
to  his  head.  "I  believe  I  am  in  for  a  touch  of  apoplexy," 
he  said  to  the  rector,  who  greeted  him,  in  advance  of  the 
ladies,  on  Mr.  Baerens'  lawn.  He  said  it  smilingly,  but 
wanting  some  show  of  sympathy,  instead  of  the  whisper 
and  meaningless  hand  at  his  clerical  band,  with  which  the 
rector  responded,  he  cried,  "Apoplexy,"  and  his  friend 
seemed  then  to  understand,  and  disappeared  among  the 
ladies. 

Several  of  them  surrounded  the  General,  and  one  in- 
quired whether  the  series  was  being  continued.  He  drew 
forth  his  pocket-book,  handed  her  the  latest,  and  remarked 
on  the  gross  injustice  of  it;  for,  as  he  requested  them  to 
take  note,  her  ladyship  now  sketched  him  as  a  person 
inattentive  to  his  dress,  and  he  begged  them  to  observe 
that  she  had  drawn  him  with  his  necktie  hanging  loose. 
"  And  that,  I  say  that  has  never  been  known  of  me  since 
I  first  entered  society." 

The  ladies  exchanged  looks  of  profound  concern ;  for  the 
fact  was,  the  General  had  come  without  any  necktie  and 
any  collar,  and  he  appeared  to  be  unaware  of  the  circum- 
stance. The  rector  had  told  them,  that  in  answer  to  a  hint 
he  had  dropped  on  the  subject  of  neckties,  General  Ople 
expressed  a  slight  apprehension  of  apoplexy;  but  his  care- 
less or  merely  partial  observance  of  the  laws  of  buttonment 
could  have  nothing  to  do  with  such  fears.  They  signified 
rather  a  disorder  of  the  intelligence.  Elizabeth  was  con- 
demned for  leaving  him  to  go  about  alone.  The  situation 
was  really  most  painful,  for  a  word  to  so  sensitive  a  man 
would  drive  him  away  in  shame  and  for  good;  and  still,  to 
let  him  parade  the  ground  in  the  state,  compared  with  his 
natural  self,  of  scarecrow,  and  with  the  dreadful  habit  of 
talking  to  himself  quite  raging,  was  a  horrible  alternative. 
Mrs.  Baerens  at  last  directed  her  husband  upon  the  Gen- 
eral, trembling  as  though  she  watched  for  the  operations  of 
a  fish  torpedo;  and  other  ladies  shared  her  excessive  anx- 
iousness,  for  Mr.  Baerens  had  the  manner  and  the  look 
of  artillery,  and  on  this  occasion  carried  a  surcharge  of 
powder. 

The  General  bent  his  ear  to  Mr.  Baerens,  whose  German- 


AND  LADY  CAMPER  309 

English  and  repeated  remark,  "I  am  to  do  it  wid  deli- 
cassy,"  did  not  assist  his  comprehension;  and  when  lie 
might  have  been  enlightened,  he  was  petrified  by  seeing 
Lady  Camper  walk  on  the  lawn  with  Elizabeth.  The  great 
lady  stood  a  moment  beside  Mrs.  Baerens;  she  came 
straight  over  to  him,  contemplating  him  in  silence. 

Then  she  said,  "Your  arm,  General  Ople,"  and  she 
made  one  circuit  of  the  lawn  with  him,  barely  speaking. 

At  her  request,  he  conducted  her  to  her  carriage.  He 
took  a  seat  beside  her,  obediently.  He  felt  that  he  was 
being  sketched,  and  comported  himself  like  a  child's  fiat 
man,  that  jumps  at  the  pulling  of  a  string. 

"  Where  have  you  left  your  girl,  General  ?  " 

Before  he  could  rally  his  wits  to  answer  the  question, 
he  was  asked: 

"And  what  have  you  done  with  your  necktie  and 
collar  ?  " 

He  touched  his  throat. 

"I  am  rather  nervous  to-day,  I  forgot  Elizabeth,"  he 
said,  sending  his  fingers  in  a  dotting  run  of  wonderment 
round  his  neck. 

Lady  Camper  smiled  with  a  triumphing  humour  on  her 
close-drawn  lips. 

The  verified  absence  of  necktie  and  collar  seemed  to  be 
choking  him. 

"Never  mind,  you  have  been  abroad  without  them,"  said 
Lady  Camper,  "and  that  is  a  victory  for  me.  And  you 
thought  of  Elizabeth  first  when  I  drew  your  attention  to  it, 
and  that  is  a  victory  for  you.  It  is  a  very  great  victory. 
Pray,  do  not  be  dismayed,  General.  You  have  a  handsome 
campaigning  air.  And  no  apologies,  if  you  please;  I  like 
you  well  enough  as  you  are.     There  is  my  hand." 

General  Ople  understood  her  last  remark.  He  pressed 
the  lady's  hand  in  silence,  very  nervously. 

"But  do  not  shrug  your  head  into  your  shoulders  as  if 
there  were  any  possibility  of  concealing  the  thunderingly 
evident,"  said  Lady  Camper,  electrifying  him,  what  with 
her  cordial  squeeze,  her  kind  eyes,  and  her  singular  lan- 
guage. "You  have  omitted  the  collar.  Well?  The 
collar  is  the  fatal  finishing  touch  in  men's  dress;  it  would 
make  Apollo  look  bourgeois." 


310  THE  CASE  OF   GENERAL  OPLE 

Her  hand  was  in  his :  and  watching  the  play  of  her  fea- 
tures, a  spark  entered  General  Ople's  brain,  causing  him, 
in  forgetfulness  of  collar  and  caricatures,  to  ejaculate, 
"  Seventy  ?  Did  your  ladyship  say  seventy  ?  Utterly 
impossible!     You  trifled  with  me." 

"  We  will  talk  when  we  are  free  of  this  accompaniment 
of  carriage-wheels,  General,"  said  Lady  Camper. 

"I  will  beg  permission  to  go  and  fetch  Elizabeth, 
madam." 

"Kightly  thought  of.  Fetch  her  in  my  carriage.  And, 
by  the  way,  Mrs.  Baerens  was  my  old  music-mistress,  and 
is,  I  think,  one  year  older  than  I.  She  can  tell  you  on 
which  side  of  seventy  I  am." 

"I  shall  not  require  to  ask,  my  lady,"  he  said,  sighing. 

"Then  we  will  send  the  carriage  for  Elizabeth,  and  have 
it  out  together  at  once.  I  am  impatient;  yes,  General, 
impatient:  for  what?  —  forgiveness." 

"Of  me,  my  lady  ?  "     The  General  breathed  profoundly. 

"Of  whom  else?  Do  you  know  what  it  is?  —  I  don't 
think  you  do.  You  English  have  the  smallest  experience 
of  humanity.  I  mean  this :  to  strike  so  hard  that,  in  the 
end,  you  soften  your  heart  to  the  victim.  Well,  that  is 
my  weakness.  And  we  of  our  blood  put  no  restraint  on 
the  blows  we  strike  when  we  think  them  wanted,  so  we 
are  always  overdoing  it." 

General  Ople  assisted  Lady  Camper  to  alight  from  the 
carriage,  which  was  forthwith  despatched  for  Elizabeth. 

He  prepared  to  listen  to  her  with  a  disconnected  smile 
of  acute  attentiveness. 

She  had  changed.  She  spoke  of  money.  Ten  thousand 
pounds  must  be  settled  on  his  daughter.  "And  now," 
said  she,  "you  will  remember  that  you  are  wanting  a 
collar." 

He  acquiesced.  He  craved  permission  to  retire  for  ten 
minutes. 

"  Simplest  of  men !  what  will  cover  you  ?  "  she  exclaimed, 
and  peremptorily  bidding  him  sit  down  in  the  drawing- 
room,  she  took  one  of  the  famous  pair  of  pistols  in  her 
hand,  and  said,  "If  I  put  myself  in  a  similar  position,  and 
make  myself  decolletee  too,  will  that  satisfy  you  ?  You  see 
these  murderous  weapons.     Well,  I  am  a  coward.     I  dread 


AND   LADY   CAMPER  311 

fire-arms.  They  are  laid  there  to  impose  on  the  world, 
and  I  believe  they  do.  They  have  imposed  on  you. 
Now,  you  would  never  think  of  pretending  to  a  moral 
quality  you  do  not  possess.  But,  silly,  simple  man  that 
you  are!  You  can  give  yourself  the  airs  of  wealth,  buy 
horses  to  conceal  your  nakedness,  and  when  you  are  taken 
upon  the  standard  of  your  apparent  income,  you  would 
rather  seem  to  be  beating  a  miserly  retreat  than  behave 
frankly  and  honestly.  I  have  a  little  overstated  it,  but 
I  am  near  the  mark." 

"  Your  ladyship  wanting  courage !  "  cried  the  General. 

"  Refresh  yourself  by  meditating  on  it,"  said  she.  "  And 
to  prove  it  to  you,  I  was  glad  to  take  this  house  when  I 
knew  I  was  to  have  a  gallant  gentleman  for  a  neighbour. 
No  visitors  will  be  admitted,  General  Ople,  so  you  are  bare- 
throated  only  to  me :  sit  quietly.  One  day  you  speculated 
on  the  paint  in  my  cheeks  for  the  space  of  a  minute  and  a 
half:  —  I  had  said  that  I  freckled  easily.  Your  look  sig- 
nified that  you  really  could  not  detect  a  single  freckle  for 
the  paint.  I  forgave  you,  or  I  did  not.  But  when  I  found 
you,  on  closer  acquaintance,  as  indifferent  to  your  daugh- 
ter's happiness  as  you  had  been  to  her  reputation  ..." 

"My  daughter!  her  reputation!  her  happiness!"  Gen- 
eral Ople  raised  his  eyes  under  a  wave,  half  uttering  the 
outcries. 

"So  indifferent  to  her  reputation,  that  you  allowed  a 
young  man  to  talk  with  her  over  the  wall,  and  meet  her 
by  appointment:  so  reckless  of  the  girl's  happiness,  that 
when  I  tried  to  bring  you  to  a  treaty,  on  her  behalf,  you 
could  not  be  dragged  from  thinking  of  yourself  and  your 
own  affair.  When  I  found  that,  perhaps  I  was  predis- 
posed to  give  you  some  of  what  my  sisters  used  to  call  my 
spice.  You  would  not  honestly  state  the  proportions  of 
your  income,  and  you  affected  to  be  faithful  to  the  woman 
of  seventy.  Most  preposterous !  Could  any  caricature  of 
mine  exceed  in  grotesqueness  your  sketch  of  yourself  ? 
You  are  a  brave  and  a  generous  man  all  the  same :  and  I 
suspect  it  is  more  hoodwinking  than  egotism  —  or  extreme 
egotism  —  that  blinds  you.  A  certain  amount  you  must 
have  to  be  a  man.  You  did  not  like  my  paint,  still  less 
did  you  like  my  sincerity;  you  were  annoyed  by  my  cor- 


312  THE  CASE   OF   GENERAL   OPLE 

rections  of  your  habits  of  speech ;  you  were  horrified  by  the 
age  of  seventy,  and  you  were  credulous  —  General  Ople, 
listen  to  me,  and  remember  that  you  have  no  collar  on! 
—  you  were  credulous  of  my  statement  of  my  great  age,  or 
you  chose  to  be  so,  or  chose  to  seem  so,  because  I  had 
brushed  your  cat's  coat  against  the  fur.  And  then,  full  of 
yourself,  not  thinking  of  Elizabeth,  but  to  withdraw  in 
the  chivalrous  attitude  of  the  man  true  to  his  word  to  the 
old  woman,  only  stickling  to  bring  a  certain  independence 
to  the  common  stock,  because  —  I  quote  you !  and  you  have 
no  collar  on,  mind  —  '  you  could  not  be  at  your  wife's  mercy, ' 
you  broke  from  your  proposal  on  the  money  question. 
Where  was  your  consideration  for  Elizabeth  then  ? 

"Well,  General,  you  were  fond  of  thinking  of  yourself, 
and  I  thought  I  would  assist  you.  I  gave  you  plenty  of 
subject  matter.  I  will  not  say  I  meant  to  work  a  homoeo- 
pathic cure.  But  if  I  drive  you  to  forget  your  collar,  is  it 
or  is  it  not  a  triumph  ? 

"No,"  added  Lady  Camper,  "it  is  no  triumph  for  me, 
but  it  is  one  for  you,  if  you  like  to  make  the  most  of  it. 
Your  fault  has  been  to  quit  active  service,  General,  and 
love  your  ease  too  well.  It  is  the  fault  of  your  country- 
men. You  must  get  a  militia  regiment,  or  inspectorship 
of  militia.  You  are  ten  times  the  man  in  exercise.  Why, 
do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  you  would  have  cared  for 
those  drawings  of  mine  when  marching?" 

"I  think  so,  I  say  I  think  so,"  remarked  the  General 
seriously. 

"I  doubt  it,"  said  she.  "But  to  the  point;  here  comes 
Elizabeth.  If  you  have  not  much  money  to  spare  for  her, 
according  to  your  prudent  calculation,  reflect  how  this 
money  has  enfeebled  you  and  reduced  you  to  the  level  of 
the  people  round  about  us  here  —  who  are,  what  ?  Inhab- 
itants of  gentlemanly  residences,  yes !  But  what  kind  of 
creature  ?  They  have  no  mental  standard,  no  moral  aim, 
no  native  chivalry.  You  were  rapidly  becoming  one  of 
them,  only,  fortunately  for  you,  you  were  sensitive  to 
ridicule." 

"Elizabeth  shall  have  half  my  money  settled  on  her," 
said  the  General ;  "  though  I  fear  it  is  not  much.  And  if 
I  can  find  occupation,  my  lady  ..." 


AND   LADY   CAMPER  313 

"Something  worthier  than  that,"  said  Lady  Camper, 
pencilling  outlines  rapidly  on  the  margin  of  a  book,  and 
he  saw  himself  lashing  a  pony;  "or  that,"  and  he  was 
]  ducking  at  a  cabbage;  "or  that"  and  he  was  bowing  to 
three  petticoated  posts. 

"The  likeness  is  exact,"  General  Ople  groaned. 

"So  you  may  suppose  I  have  studied  you,"  said  she. 
"But  there  is  no  real  likeness.  Slight  exaggerations  do 
more  harm  to  truth  than  reckless  violations  of  it.  You 
would  not  have  cared  one  bit  for  a  caricature,  if  you  had 
not  nursed  the  absurd  idea  of  being  one  of  our  conquerors. 
It  is  the  very  tragedy  of  modesty  for  a  man  like  you  to 
have  such  notions,  my  poor  dear  good  friend.  The  modest 
are  the  most  easily  intoxicated  when  they  sip  at  vanity. 
And  reflect  whether  you  have  not  been  intoxicated,  for 
these  young  people  have  been  wretched,  and  you  have  not 
observed  it,  though  one  of  them  was  living  with  you,  and 
is  the  child  you  love.  There,  I  have  done.  Pray  show  a 
good  face  to  Elizabeth." 

The  General  obeyed  as  well  as  he  could.  He  felt  very 
like  a  sheep  that  has  come  from  a  shearing,  and  when 
released  he  wished  to  run  away.  But  hardly  had  he 
escaped  before  he  had  a  desire  for  the  renewal  of  the  opera- 
tion. "She  sees  me  through,  she  sees  me  through,"  he 
was  heard  saying  to  himself,  and  in  the  end  he  taught 
himself  to  say  it  with  a  secret  exultation,  for  as  it  was 
on  her  part  an  extraordinary  piece  of  insight  to  see  him 
through,  it  struck  him  that  in  acknowledging  the  truth  of 
it,  he  made  a  discovery  of  new  powrers  in  human  nature. 

General  Ople  studied  Lady  Camper  diligently  for  fresh 
proofs  of  her  penetration  of  the  mysteries  in  his  bosom ; 
by  which  means,  as  it  happened  that  she  was  diligently 
observing  the  two  betrothed  young  ones,  he  began  to  watch 
them  likewise,  and  took  a  pleasure  in  the  sight.  Their 
meetings,  their  partings,  their  rides  out  and  home  fur- 
nished him  themes  of  converse.  He  soon  had  enough  to 
talk  of,  and  previously,  as  he  remembered,  he  had  never 
sustained  a  conversation  of  any  length  with  composure 
and  the  beneficent  sense  of  fulness.  Five  thousand  pounds, 
to  which  sum  Lady  Camper  reduced  her  stipulation  for 
Elizabeth's  dowry,  he  signed  over  to  his  dear  girl  gladly, 


314  THE  CASE   OF   GENERAL  OPLE 

and  came  out  with  the  confession  to  her  ladyship  that  a 
well-invested  twelve  thousand  comprised  his  fortune.  She 
shrugged:  she  had  left  off  pulling  him  this  way  and  that, 
so  his  chains  were  enjoyable,  and  he  said  to  himself:  "If 
ever  she  should  in  the  dead  of  night  want  a  man  to  defend 
her!"  He  mentioned  it  to  Eeginald,  who  had  been  the 
repository  of  Elizabeth's  lamentations  about  her  father 
being  left  alone,  forsaken,  and  the  young  man  conceived  a 
scheme  for  causing  his  aunt's  great  bell  to  be  rung  at  mid- 
night, which  would  certainly  have  led  to  a  dramatic  issue 
and  the  happy  re-establishment  of  our  masculine  ascend- 
ancy at  the  close  of  this  history.  But  he  forgot  it  in  his 
bridegroom's  delight,  until  he  was  making  his  miserable 
official  speech  at  the  wedding-breakfast,  and  set  Elizabeth 
winking  over  a  tear.  As  she  stood  in  the  hall  ready  to 
depart,  a  great  van  was  observed  in  the  road  at  the  gates 
of  Douro  Lodge ;  and  this,  the  men  in  custody  declared  to 
contain  the  goods  and  knick-knacks  of  the  people  who  had 
taken  the  house  furnished  for  a  year,  and  were  coming  in 
that  very  afternoon. 

"I  remember,  I  say  now  I  remember,  I  had  a  notice," 
the  General  said  cheerily  to  his  troubled  daughter. 

"  But  where  are  you  to  go,  papa  ? "  the  poor  girl  cried, 
close  on  sobbing. 

"  I  shall  get  employment  of  some  sort,"  said  he.  "I  was 
saying  I  want  it,  I  need  it,  I  require  it." 

'You  are  saying  three  times  what  once  would  have 
sufficed  for,"  said  Lady  Camper,  and  she  asked  him  a  few 
questions,  frowned  with  a  smile,  and  offered  him  a  lodge- 
ment in  his  neighbour's  house. 

"  Really,  dearest  Aunt  Angela  ?  "  said  Elizabeth. 

"What  else  can  I  do,  child?  I  have,  it  seems,  driven 
him  out  of  a  gentlemanly  residence,  and  I  must  give  him 
a  ladylike  one.  True,  I  would  rather  have  had  him  at 
call,  but  as  I  have  always  wished  for  a  policeman  in  the 
house,  I  may  as  well  be  satisfied  with  a  soldier." 

"But  if  you  lose  your  character,  my  lady?"  said 
Reginald. 

"Then  I  must  look  to  the  General  to  restore  it." 

General  Ople  immediately  bowed  his  head  over  Lady 
Camper's  fingers. 


AND  LADY   CAMPER  315 

"An  odd  thing  to  happen  to  a  woman  of  forty-one!  "  she 
said  to  her  great  people,  and  they  submitted  with  the  best 
grace  in  the  world,  while  the  General's  ears  tingled  till  he 
felt  younger  than  Reginald.  This,  his  reflections  ran,  or 
it  would  be  more  correct  to  say  waltzed,  this  is  the  result 
of  painting!  — that  you  can  believe  a  woman  to  be  any  age 
when  her  cheeks  are  tinted ! 

As  for  Lady  Camper,  she  had  been  floated  accidentally 
over  the  ridicule  of  the  bruit  of  a  marriage  at  a  time  of  life 
as  terrible  to  her  as  her  fiction  of  seventy  had  been  to 
General  Ople ;  she  resigned  herself  to  let  things  go  with 
the  tide.  She  had  not  been  blissful  in  her  first  marriage, 
she  had  abandoned  the  chase  of  an  ideal  man,  and  she  had 
found  one  who  was  tuneable  so  as  not  to  offend  her  ears, 
likely  ever  to  be  a  fund  of  amusement  for  her  humour, 
good,  impressible,  and  above  all,  very  picturesque.  There 
is  the  secret  of  her,  and  of  how  it  came  to  pass  that  a  simple 
man  and  a  complex  woman  fell  to  union  after  the  strangest 
division. 


/ 


n   * 


This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below 


MAY  10   1 


. 


MAR  3  01S64 


^  21  19® 
MAR  19  1947 

I  0  19< 
3CT  B     195ft, 


Bl7n 


FtB  ^4^|fiE*lM 


Form  L-9-15m-7,/31 


< 


p?  $  r 


«r>  V 


IJRBN*1 


...... 


APR19\3(J7 


tP^D 


•URt 


*m 


h 


LD 


\366 


DEC  1 9  taps 

HECO  tO-WW 

OS.    TWR10  !370 

MAR  4   «70 


TO7D  tWffltl 

J.WV  2  7 1977 

juiir2fW7i 

id.    ****** „JUk'  '   ^<' 


I* 


£  IIIIIIIIIIIII 

-*      3    1158   0074R   41 


58  00746  4133 


uc 


jj2\pi£RN 


AA 


.■■■•■. 


MC//./7Y 


